Mischances, Stances and Stolen Glances
by ellisbell85
Summary: Santana and Brittany are happily married and expecting their first kid. However, an unfortunate event puts Santana in a coma for almost 4 years. When she wakes up everything is certainly... different. Can both of them deal with this new reality?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I don't own _Glee _(if I did it would probably be called _The Brittany and Santana Show_, and all the other characters would only be there to help advance their plot) nor its characters.

**A/N**: This story has been practically stalking me everywhere I go, seriously, _even_ in the shower. It clearly has no idea of personal space; so, I finally gave in and started to put it on paper. Hope you enjoy it!

* * *

><p><strong>Mischances, Stances and Stolen Glances<br>**_||Chapter One||  
><em>

**_New York City, NY – 2007_**

Santana turned her keys and entered the familiar foyer of the duplex apartment she called home. She instinctively dropped the keys into a multicolored, artsy bowl that sat elegantly on top of a contemporary sideboard.

"Babe, you're home?" she called while quickly, and reflexively, checking her appearance on the mirror that hung above the sideboard. One of her many habits.

"In the kitchen," came a small voice from somewhat far away.

Santana walked through the spacious place towards the targeted room, her heels making clicking sounds as they touched the hardwood floor.

"Hey," she said after entering the room, smiling softly at the blonde behind the kitchen's marble island.

"Hi, babe," Brittany replied, looking up from the food she was making, and wearing a smile that matched her wife's. "How was your day?" she quickly added, watching Santana sling her black pea coat and white doctor's coat on the back of a kitchen chair.

"Busy, I guess boob jobs will never go out of style," the brunette plastic surgeon answered playfully, turning to see her wife.

"_You_'d know," the blue-eyed woman quipped, letting a wider grin take over her face.

"Hey!" Santana exclaimed in a high-pitched voice while inching closer to Brittany, and finally laying a kiss on the blonde's lips. One that was initially intended to be a peck, but turned out to linger longer than originally expected. "You know you love them," she added after pulling apart with her trademark smirk set on her face.

"How about _your_ day?" the Latina asked leaning on the island. "You know, you shouldn't be on your feet making dinner. _I _should be the one doing it, in fact, let me take over," she said after a beat, pulling Brittany away from the stove, which finally exposed her protuberant bump, and guiding her to one of the kitchen's chairs where the blonde sat against her will.

"Pregnancy is not a disease, San. You should know that, you're the doctor here," the blonde chastised, albeit weakly. Deep down she liked how much her wife cared for her.

"I know, B; but you probably have been on your feet all day. No need to push it, you know," the brunette tried to appease the other woman while tucking some blonde stray hair behind her wife's ear with affection.

It must have worked because Brittany didn't say another word; she just flashed the Latina one of those sweet smiles of hers, and Santana's heart simply melted. She couldn't help but reciprocate it.

"Can I have a little chat with our child now?" Santana beamed squatting down, and touching the blue-eyed woman's belly.

"_After_ dinner. I'm starving," Brittany informed lightly, swatting her wife's hands and motioning for her to go to the stove.

"Ok, I'm going, I'm going," Santana said, heading for the island. "What are we having anyway?" she further enquired.

"Stuffed pepper, and broccoli salad."

"Sounds good," the brunette said, getting acquainted with the ingredients and Brittany's progress.

"The stuffing is already done, and the broccoli has probably finished steaming by now. All you have to do is stuff the peppers, pop them in the oven and whip up the salad," Brittany offered offhandedly looking at Santana.

"Got it. So, again, how was your day?" Santana asked while washing the red peppers.

"Tiring. Quinn and I tried to talk to the upstairs owner. Again. And I gotta tell you, the lady won't budge to save her life," Brittany complained, playing with one of the green apples from the kitchen's table center bowl.

"Jeez, Britt! Aren't you and Q tired of this dance? I mean, the old lady is a bitch, _that_ pretty much we've already established. Can't you guys, I don't know… buy one of the next door places and do some construction to join the spaces and expand the dance studio? This is getting crazy," the Latina spat.

"It is, but you know the area. The places next door are all well-established businesses. There's no way they would sell."

"You're right. That's Soho for ya," Santana quipped, putting the by then stuffed peppers in the oven.

"We'll just have to keep insisting, and one day we _will_ wear the old lady down," Brittany said, finally putting the apple back in its place.

Santana stopped what she was doing, and turned her head sharply to her wife.

"You _do_ realize that sounded incredibly dirty, don't you?" the brunette woman rhetorically asked, arching one eyebrow and smirking. "And also so very gross," she added, trying to shake the unwelcomed image from her brain.

"You _do_ realize your mind is in the gutter, don't you, San?" the blonde mimicked the Latina's rhetorical intonation, but unable to muffle a light chuckle afterwards.

Santana smiled and shook her head.

"Let's just set the table to eat, ok," she said nearing her wife and cupping her cheek gently, being rewarded with a slight pull-down and a sweet peck on the lips.

* * *

><p>Brittany sat on their large, grey living room sofa, flipping through <em>People<em> magazine while Santana sat on the opposite side giving her a foot massage, and occasionally talking to the baby.

"Which one, the blue or the silver?" Brittany enquired for the umpteenth time, turning the magazine towards Santana so she could choose between the two dresses.

"The silver. Definitely. Way sexier," the brunette said after leaning closer to the magazine to judge precisely.

"Me too," the pregnant woman concurred, pulling the magazine back.

"You three, baby?" the Latina enquired the belly, completely switching to her baby-talk voice, and quitting on the massage altogether to properly lean in and talk directly to the bump. "_Of course_ you three! You're totally going to have _awesome_ taste, just like your mommies. Aren't you?" she concluded, wearing this foolish smile on her face.

Brittany tore her eyes away from the magazine to look at her wife briefly.

"Remind me again, babe… why do we have to film this talk thing every day?" the blonde asked, looking accusingly at the camera on top of their beautiful, wooden coffee table.

"Well, it will be nice to watch it years from now. For our child too. Besides, we are totally made for the camera: we're both young and hot…" Santana said, but was interrupted by her wife.

"I don't feel so hot right now. Look at this belly," Brittany whined, almost pouting.

The Latina started to laugh, which granted her a glare from her pregnant wife, which _then_ made her stop laughing completely.

"Come on, Britt, you're what? 4 months now, right? And your bump isn't even that noticeable," Santana said softly and reassuringly, unable to completely erase the smile from her face.

"Besides, personally…" she added, grabbing the blonde's waist firmly with both hands and teasingly hovering above her.

"I think you're hotter now…" she lowered her voice and her head, lips mere inches from Brittany's. The pregnant woman, whose magazine was long discarded to the floor, tried to catch her wife's lips, but the brunette pulled back swiftly. _Such a tease_, the blue-eyed woman thought.

"Than ever," Santana finished with a husky tone, finally taking Brittany's bottom lip in her own. Her tongue was about to request entrance, but the blonde's beat her to it, finding hers and engaging in a sensual battle. She heard a soft, low moan escaping Brittany's throat and it stimulated her to move her lips faster, hands tangling in her wife's hair. Then, another moan came from her own throat as Brittany grazed her fingers on that sensitive spot on the small of her back.

They both felt the need to come out for air, and Santana adjusted herself straight back on the sofa.

"Ok, I guess I believe you now," Brittany said through a smirk, adjusting herself as well after retrieving the magazine from the floor.

"_Guess_?" Santana countered, matching her wife's smirk.

Brittany went back to her reading and Santana back to her baby-talk.

"By the way, you know that more than half of all this footage you have is completely inappropriate for a child, right?" Brittany mocked. Smiling and shaking her head.

"One word, babe: editing. _.ing_," Santana replied.

"Isn't that right, little man? Or little lady?" the brunette baby-talked, face inches from the blonde's belly. "Seriously, how many ultrasounds by now, Britt?" she turned back to her regular voice, looking at her wife.

"Three," the pregnant woman deadpanned, not looking away from the magazine. "Pink or red?" she turned the _People_ to Santana.

"Pink," Santana said with confidence, and Brittany nodded her agreement. "Did you hear that, baby?" baby voice back on. "_Three_ ultrasounds; 3D ultrasounds, I must add, and every time you manage to cover your private parts! What's up with that?" she enquired indignantly.

Then, after stealing a glance at her wife's hidden face behind the magazine, the Latina chanced.

"Why so bashful, huh?" Haven't you met your mommy?" she asked, trying to contain a grin.

Brittany slowly lowered her magazine.

"…ies," the blonde said. Seeing her wife's confusion she amended. "Momm_ies_, you're more of an exhibitionist than I am, Santana," Brittany said midst a playful smile.

"Am not," she told the bump after a silent beat, clearly experiencing feelings of regression.

"Is too," her wife countered in the same spirit, leaning forward to better talk to her own belly.

Both laughed out loud, and the blonde cast her magazine aside.

"Have you thought more about names?" Brittany asked softly, placing her hand on top of Santana's, which was already on top of her belly. The contact of their yellow gold wedding bands making a tiny clicking sound.

"The other day I thought of Oliver, or Julian, if it's a boy," the pregnant woman added.

"Hmm, I like those," Santana replied, rubbing a thumb over her wife's index finger.

"For a girl I thought of Spencer. I know how you like unisex names," Brittany said, smiling.

"I so do. I like Sophie, too," Santana was barely whispering, she didn't know why though. "Oh, and Zoey. I _love_ Zoey," the brunette looked up at Brittany with a glint in her eye. Right at that moment the blonde couldn't remember ever seeing her wife look so beautiful.

"All wonderful options, S," Brittany replied, unable to stop leaning forward to lay a kiss on the Latina's cheek. "I think we should go to bed now. I'm kinda tired," she added while standing up.

Santana nodded her agreement and went to turn off the camera.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Britts, how is your schedule tomorrow?" Santana asked from their en suite bathroom.<p>

"Normal. Why?" the blue-eyed woman replied, transferring the many decorative pillows from the bed to the white loveseat.

"I was wondering, maybe you could swing by the practice so we can try another ultrasound," came the muffled voice from a toothbrush-filled mouth.

Brittany couldn't help but smile at her wife's curiosity. Santana had been completely frustrated to not know if their baby was a boy or a girl.

"I don't know. I don't have an appointment, San."

"Who said you need one? I'm sure Stella won't mind. It's not like she doesn't own me favors. Besides, if she doesn't do it, _I'll_ do it myself."

"Ok, then; I guess I can swing by after lunch," Brittany said, sitting down on their king sized bed.

"Great, it's a date," the brunette said with a smile on her face, entering their bedroom in track shorts, and a navy t-shirt with Columbia written across in white letters.

Brittany grabbed a small bottle of baby oil from the nightstand.

"Want some help with that?" Santana asked, walking towards her wife. Her smile quickly morphing into a smirk.

Brittany matched said smile and handed the Latina the bottle.

"Lie down," the brunette commanded, shaking the bottle to mix its content.

"You don't have to ask me twice," the blonde replied with a mischievous smile on her face, and did what she was told; taking the opportunity to push her pajamas' pants down a bit, and to pull her tank top up, finally exposing her whole bump.

Santana started to rub the oil on her wife's belly. Slowly, gently, making sure not to miss one single spot of that milky, soft skin. Who needed stretch marks? Not her beautiful, perfect, incredibly hot wife. That's for sure.

A comfortable silence fell upon the two women. The television was on, the sound very low. Neither was watching the late night talk show. It was there just for background noise.

Brittany decided to break the silence.

"What do you think the baby will look like?" she said, leaning on a stack of fluffy pillows, and looking down affectionately at Santana, who busied herself trying to thoroughly rub the belly.

"Hopefully exactly like you," the brunette deadpanned without missing a beat, and not taking her eyes from the blonde's bump.

"No, I want him, or her, to look like you."

"You know that's not really possible, babe," Santana softly said looking directly into Brittany's eyes, still not stopping to rub her belly, and letting a sweet smile take over her features.

Silence again. Brittany had that look on her face, Santana's trained eyes on all things Brittany swiftly assessed with a stolen glance. A look that conveyed, without a doubt, that she was thinking. Hard. Santana could read her wife like no one else. The blue-eyed woman's brows were a tad furrowed, her nose a little scrunched, her mouth a tad pushed to the side… _God, I love her!_ The brunette thought, taking in her wife's cute antics.

"But we chose someone who looks _exactly_ like you," Brittany complained, her trademark pout firmly in place.

"Well, the donor doesn't _look_ exactly like me, honey," Santana said, chuckling. "But, yeah, we share the exact same biotype," she added.

"So, it's possible, right?" the blonde sort of pleaded, puppy dog eyes in place.

"Well, I guess, in a way… yes, it's kinda possible," the Latina conceded, finishing the belly rub.

Brittany clapped her hands enthusiastically like a small child, and Santana grinned widely. She loved seeing the blonde this happy. In fact, seeing her wife happy made _her_, Santana, ten times happier. And people still wondered why she catered to the woman's every whim. If only they knew the selfless selfishness behind their peculiar and perfect symbiosis…

"Ok, can we actually go to bed now?" Santana asked.

Brittany didn't even respond, she just started to pull down the comforter and get under the voluminous thing. Her wife simply followed suit, turning off the television and the lights before getting settled under the covers. They instinctively cuddled. Brittany took the bigger spoon position, sliding an arm beneath Santana's, upon the brunette's waist, and intertwining their fingers. The blonde gently planted a light kiss on her wife's exposed neck, followed quickly by a typical nuzzle. It was their thing, after all. Brittany couldn't help but notice, after all these years, how soft her skin still was.

"Goodnight, B."

"Night, S."

And they were taken by the silence of the night.

After a short while 'though, Brittany whispered, "San?" But there was no answer. "San?" she tried once more, giving her wife a soft shake.

"Hmm," the brunette hummed absentmindedly.

"Are you awake?"

"Uh huh," came another humming.

It took another short while for the pregnant woman to speak, "Are you… happy? I mean, with all of this?"

_That_ got Santana's attention, and she turned right away to face her wife. To look her in the eyes. They never hid anything from her. And she was met by the full force of that pair of blue eyes. That unique shade that was so familiar and entrancing to her, a perfect mixture of translucent aqua, blue and… beauty. From the first time the couple had kissed in high school, Santana _knew_ that she would never be able to get over them. She would never be able to get over _her_. And it had scared her like nothing before.

"Where did _that_ come from?" the Latina asked softly, her voice a bit alarmed. Even though she had come a long way with her insecurity issues, deep down, there was still a tiny part of Santana – her self-destructive, self-doubting stripes that she could never completely paint over – which still believed she didn't deserve Brittany. That she didn't deserve this life.

"I just feel so, _so_ happy right now. I don't think I've ever been this happy," the blonde murmured facing her wife, their hands one each under their pillows and faces inches from one another. "Not even when we saw that baby duck being born," she added with adorable disbelief on her face.

Santana smiled at her wife's barely untouched innocence, releasing a breath she wasn't even aware of still being holding. And then she tenderly cupped one of the blonde's cheeks.

"I'm happy too, babe. Sickeningly so," she said in that sweet tone that was reserved for Brittany, and Brittany alone. "To be completely honest, I never thought that someone like me could even get this happy," the Latina added, not even having to explain to her wife how _someone like her _was. They both knew Santana wasn't the happy-go-luck type. In earnest, she was exactly the opposite. And Brittany proud herself to be the one person who could always bring the happy to her wife's ness.

Brittany pulled Santana closer and kissed her. It was chaste, and delicate, and intimate. They both just let themselves go, glad to have each other.

"Ok, _now_, can we finally go to sleep?" Santana asked, pulling apart.

Brittany grinned and nodded. Then, seconds later, before they even got resettled, she asked sheepishly "Could you get me a bottle of water first, babe?"

Santana cocked her head at her wife. Then, before she could say something snarky, she remembered this was her wife. Who was carrying their child.

"Sure, I gotta grab my phone and pager that I left downstairs anyway," she said, getting out of bed.

"Who has the best wife in the world? I do!" the blonde replied playfully. "Love you."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," the brunette joked dismissively, walking away from their bed.

When she was nearing the bedroom's door 'though, Santana turned around to her wife, with a smile on her face, and called "Hey, Britts," the pregnant woman shifted beneath the comforter to face her, "I love you t –" the Latina was interrupted by an unbelievable wave of pain shooting through her head.

Brittany watched as her wife's face morphed from the sweetest of smiles to this disconcerting picture of sheer pain. She watched in shock as Santana threw her hands up to cradle her head, and grunted an awful sound of pain that Brittany would never be able to erase from her mind. Then, the brunette collapsed to the hardwood floor. It all took mere seconds, but every frame of time seemed like an eternity to the pregnant woman, who rushed as fast as she possibly could to her wife's side.

"San?" she pleaded desperately, cradling the smaller woman's body. "San, please, talk to me!" tears began to stream frantically down her face.

"Santana!" the blonde shouted, shaking her wife, but getting no response yet again.

Brittany knew she had to do something. Fast. She rushed to Santana's nightstand and grabbed their cordless phone with unsteady hands. Then, she quickly dialed the three numbers.

"911, how can I help you?" a man's voice answered.

"My wife," the pregnant woman said through sobs, rushing back to the brunette's side, "she, she just collapsed," she added, resuming the cradling.

"Is she conscious, ma'am?"

"No… she isn't waking up. She won't wake up!"

"Stay calm, ma'am. Can you tell me what happened exactly?"

"You gotta send an ambulance. She isn't waking up, please!"

"It's on its way. We pinpointed your location already, ma'am. West Village, Manhattan right?"

Brittany nodded, not realizing he couldn't actually see her. "12th street with 6th Avenue. Apartment building 1552, apartment 21C. Please, hurry."

"Ok, so, what exactly happened ma'am? The information will help the medics."

"I, I don't know. She just put her hands in her head, cried in pain and collapsed. I, uh, I… I don't understand this. She was fine moments ago. Totally fine," the blonde deadpanned through tears, mumbling more to herself than to anyone else.

"Everything will be fine. They should be arriving in 2 minutes," the man said reassuringly.

* * *

><p>That ambulance ride to the hospital seemed surreal. <em>Everything<em> about that night's latest developments seemed surreal as they played again and again in Brittany's mind.

"…and the BP?" she heard the lady paramedic ask her partner.

"Stable," he answered, checking the monitor.

"You should take this blanket. It's freezing, you'll catch a cold," the blonde medic said, turning her attention to Brittany while handing her a blanket.

Brittany was clearly in shock. She looked down and saw that she was still in her pajamas, and then she turned back to the woman with a blank stare.

"It won't be good for the baby," the medic added gauging her bump, and realizing the shocked state the other woman was in.

Brittany instantly took it, wrapping the blanket around herself. Honestly, she didn't feel cold. All she felt was completely numb. She didn't take her eyes from her wife, 'though. Santana looked so small and fragile laying there on that gurney, and that terrified the blonde, 'cause that was precisely everything that her wife was not. Her attention was then grabbed by the sight of the brunette's hand. Her left hand. The one adorned with their wedding band, and another stream of tears cascaded down her face. However, they did not contain the urge she felt to link their pinkies together. Even 'though with every second that passed it hurt like hell not to feel any pressure back.

"ETA, Pete?" the male medic asked the ambulance driver.

"2 to Presbyterian."

"She did her internship there," Brittany mumbled lowly and absentmindedly to herself.

"She stopped breathing. Damn it!" he exclaimed.

"What's happening? Babe?" the pregnant woman sobbed.

"I'll bag her. We're almost there, they can intubate her," the blonde lady medic said.

"Please, San… Don't…" Brittany pleaded, not letting go of her wife's pinkie.

* * *

><p>Quinn and Rachel came bursting through the waiting area's double door. They spotted their friend immediately, and rushed to her side. She looked so out of it, and terribly lost.<p>

"B, we're here. What happened?" Quinn said, sitting on the chair next to her friend and rubbing her back soothingly.

"How are you, honey?" Rachel asked worriedly, over her wife's question, while sitting on Brittany's other side.

The pregnant woman didn't respond. Quinn and Rachel exchanged a concerned look.

"Britt?" Quinn tried again gently.

Only at that moment the taller blonde seemed to have registered her friends' arrival.

"Hey, B," the smaller blonde cooed, looking directly into blue, tear stained eyes.

"Q, San… It was horrible," Brittany barely whispered, tears beginning to well up again in her eyes.

"Tell us what happened, sweetie," Rachel murmured, rubbing one of her friend's knees.

"Jimmy. Jimmy should be here," the blue-eyed woman deadpanned as Santana's friend sprang randomly to her mind.

"I called him, Britt. He should be here at any second," the hazel-eyed blonde reassured. "So, what exactly happened? You were so vague on the phone."

"I, I have no idea. We were fine. _She_ was fine. We were happy. We were _both_ so happy. She said it. She said that… She did. Then she just…" Brittany tried to recollect as she mumbled, "…she just cradled her head and cried this awful… _awful_ sound of pain…" the blonde's tears started to fall again, "…and she finally collapsed to the ground. There was nothing I could do. I wish…" she got lost to the sobs.

"It's ok, honey. There was nothing you could have done more," Quinn tried to calm Brittany as she enveloped the taller blonde in a tight hug.

"Did the doctors come by to say anything yet?" she asked without letting go of her friend, and then felt the woman shaking her head against her shoulder.

Quinn felt her own eyes starting to well up, then she looked at her wife and the brunette's tears were already falling down her face.

Jimmy burst through the doors in the same fashion as the couple of women had done mere moments before. Concern written all over his face. The British man had known Santana for a long time. They met in Columbia, taking the same classes in hopes to get to Med School, became lab partners, and then both got into Columbia P&S and survived to tell the tale. Now they were partners in a private practice, along with five other doctors. More than that, they were _friends_. Santana liked to tease him, to bust his chops, but again, that is Santana Pierce-Lopez. That's who she is. But she also didn't throw words around like "friend" without really meaning them. And Jimmy was that to her, openly admitting it or not. He was even a bridesman at her and Brittany's wedding. And as far as the guy was concerned, Santana was his best friend.

"Girls," he acknowledged tensely with a nod, looking down as he stood in front of them. "What happened? How is she?" he asked in a rush. "How are _you_, Britt?" he slowed way down, and turned his whole attention to his best friend's pregnant wife.

Quinn and Rachel passed along to James the little information they had learned from Brittany minutes ago. They thought it would be easier. The woman seemed to be in and out of this alarming catatonic state. More in than out actually.

The man took a really good look at Brittany and his heart ached. She looked so fragile sitting there wrapped around that cheap blanket.

"Here, darling," the shaggy-haired man softly said, with a smile on his face while taking off his camel woolen overcoat. "Let's get you in this," he added kneeling down in front of the blonde, and replacing the blanket with the coat.

Brittany managed to hug him, and then went back into her shell.

The minutes began to pass, turning into hours. Santana's other associates filled the room one by one in the first couple of hours: Anna, then Stella, Grace and John after, and finally Noah. They all paced back and forth, starving for news. And then dawn arrived.

"This is ridiculous! We should have heard something by now," Jimmy spat angrily.

"You know it's an ICH, James; those take time," Noah, who was a brain surgeon, said matter-of-factly. One thing the guy couldn't be accused of was having tact.

That piece of information immediately got Brittany's attention.

"What? What's an ICH?" she asked softly to no one in particularly. After all, the room was filled with doctors.

Everyone shot Noah a reproaching look. Why, he didn't know; but the others had been trying not to worry the already bewildered pregnant woman.

"It's a cerebral hemorrhage," the blond brain surgeon replied when no one else volunteered.

He saw the confusion in the pregnant woman's eyes and remembered she wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed; so, he simplified by saying, "It's a bleeding in the brain."

It's not like Noah was an ass – most times, anyway. He just liked to call it like it was.

"That sounds serious," Brittany stated worriedly, both hands on her lap.

"It can be," Noah declared, shoving his hands in his pockets. He liked Lopez, he certainly wished for the best. This didn't mean he was going to ignore the worst. "Or – "

Brittany furrowed her brows, and it looked like she was going to start crying all over again.

"You've said enough, Tyler," Jimmy cut him off, not angrily 'though, and stepped closer to Brittany. "Don't worry, Britt. We're not even sure if that's what she has. In fact, San and I interned here, remember? If I'm not mistaken, Covington, our supervisor, still works here. I'll go and see if he can tell me anything, alright?" the tall man added in his charming accent, shooting Quinn a 'take care of her' look.

"I'll go with you," John, the short psychiatrist, simply put it, placing a comforting hand on Jimmy's shoulder.

* * *

><p>"…right. Just reschedule all of our patients. Let them know why. No, no Jane, you don't have to come. Besides, someone needs to hold the fort. I have to go now, Jimmy and John are just returning," Grace told their receptionist over the phone. "Yeah, I'll call you later to let you know," the ashy brunette ended the conversation, shutting her cell.<p>

All heads turned expectantly to the men. It took them long enough, so everyone assumed they knew something. Brittany stood up, looking rather small in her larger friend's overcoat. Her blue eyes trained on Jimmy's hazel ones.

"It was an ICH," the British man stated simply what everyone already suspected.

"How is she? Is she going to be ok?" Brittany asked without missing a beat, she couldn't handle not knowing where she stood anymore.

"The bleeding was quite near the brainstem. That's a tricky and difficult area to work around, that's why it's taken so long. But, apparently, they managed to stop the bleeding and restore normal blood flow. Dr. Reyes, one of her doctors, the lead surgeon anyway, was just closing up. He should be coming to talk to you in a short while," Jimmy let out ceremoniously, unable to stop shifting his weight from one foot to another.

"Reyes is a great doctor," Noah stated from his chair.

Brittany was still taking in everything Jimmy had just told her.

"But, is she going to be ok, Jimmy?" the blonde woman asked, craving certainty.

Jimmy hesitated.

"The surgery was a success," John stepped in, sensing Jimmy couldn't give anything other than what the woman wanted to hear, hence the silence. "Still, she slipped into a coma shorter after arriving at the hospital, and hasn't come out of it since. She isn't breathing on her own. I guess it all rests in the next 24 hours. She _has_ to regain consciousness by then, otherwise…" he let the implications hang in the air.

"If anyone can come out of this is Santana. You know she's a fighter," Quinn said softly to Brittany, coming to stand by her side.

Brittany felt dizzy. This was too much, simply too much. Santana _had_ to come out of this. _Not_ waking up wasn't an option, because she, Brittany Pierce-Lopez, could not live without her wife. So, she held on to that. She held on to the hope that the Latina would be ok. That they would even laugh about this entire ordeal one day. Together.

Dr. Reyes entered the waiting area 20 minutes later, and basically told his patient's wife and friends the same things the other two doctors had earlier.

That was that: Santana had to wake up in the next 24 hours.

* * *

><p>24 hours turned into 48. 48 hours turned into 72. 72 hours turned into a month. Then two. Three. Four. Five months. Santana did <em>not<em> wake up.

Brittany had their baby. The only reason she was able to survive the whole excruciating nightmare. Quinn was there in the delivery room. So was Annie Pierce, her mother. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

After the birth, Rob and Annie Pierce decided it was best for their daughter to move back to Lima with them. They knew she had great friends in Quinn, Rachel, and Jimmy – the baby's godparents, as she and Santana long ago decided – but her friends had their own careers, their own lives; and Brittany, although strongly determined to make it for the baby's sake, still needed help to cope with _everything_. From time to time she cracked, and someone needed to be there to pick up the pieces.

Martin and Nina Lopez were heartbroken. After the many months of their daughter's persistent coma, the doctors tried to sway them and Brittany to pull the plug. After all, Santana had been clear in the past about being against prolonging life artificially. They pointed out to Dr. Lopez that he would recommend the same thing if it was one of their patients, but Martin put his foot down. He barked that that was _not_ one of his patients. That was his _daughter_, and he and his wife would care for her until the day they died. Or, at least, until _she_ did. He omitted that last part 'though. If there was even one chance in a _billion_ to have her back, they would take it. They were glad to know Brittany would be going to Lima to stay. Martin and Nina weren't exactly the warmest of types, in fact, they were remarkably cold, but that didn't mean love wasn't present there. They were excited to be part of their grandchild's life. A grandchild that their daughter was so over the moon to meet, but sadly, would probably never have the opportunity. So, they made sure to arrange her transfer to Dr. Lopez's hospital back in Lima, making sure their daughter's doctors knew that money was not an issue. She should be transferred as fast and as comfortable as possible.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Lima, OH – 2011<em>**

"Please, baby, stop playing with your food," Brittany softly told her child, closing the fridge's door.

"Peanut butter and jelly, or ham and cheese?" the blonde asked.

"PB&J!" the child said excitedly.

"PB&J it is!" Brittany mimicked the infant's excitement. "Now hurry up, sweetie. It's almost time for school," she added, making the sandwich.

They were interrupted by the phone ringing.

"Hello," Brittany answered, lathering a generous coat of peanut butter onto a slice of bread.

"Yes, this is she," the dancer said, pressing the cordless phone against her shoulder in order to open the jelly jar.

Suddenly her eyes started to grow wider and wider as she heard what the person on the other side of the line told her. And then she couldn't say anything else. Her heart began to beat uncontrollably fast. Her hands faltered, and she just dropped the jelly jar. The object fell to the floor with a loud crashing sound, startling the blonde out of her daze.

"Yes, yes, uh… I've heard you. Thanks for calling," the blue-eyed woman managed to muster, a stunned look still on her face.

Brittany just stood there in utter shock.

"Who dropped a handkerchief?" a person entering the kitchen asked jokingly.

"It's wasn't a handkerchief, silly. Mommy dropped the jelly jar," the child replied matter-of-factly, not getting the joke.

"What happened?" the person asked worriedly, taking in the dancer's shocked face for the first time.

"Go brush your teeth, honey," Brittany told the child, who readily obliged, leaving the kitchen in a dash.

Brittany took a deep breath, and looked into her _wife's_ eyes.

"It was the hospital," she informed solemnly. "It's Santana. She… she woke up," Brittany finished in disbelief, still holding the phone with the tightest of grips.

* * *

><p><strong>So, what did you think? Should I stick to it? Comments are highly appreciated :)<strong> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Glee _nor its original characters (if I did it would probably be called _The Brittany and Santana Show_, and all the other characters would only be there to help advance their plot).

**A/N:** A few things have to be said: a) thank you all so very much for the many reviews! I had no idea this story would be this well received. You guys are amazing and oh-so-kind, seriously; b) I'll try my hardest to update once a week, or even sooner if I get the chance, but shit happens sometimes; so, if I take longer, I apologize in advance; c) I have the whole story already planned in my head. From start to finish. And it will be a long ride, that's why I complained about the stalking thing. Having that many dialogue plaguing your head non-stop at inconvenient times is not exactly ideal. Anyhow, if I don't take your suggestions is only because things are all already laid out in my head. Every single detail in the story has its reasons, and it'll all pan out sooner or later. Also, I'm very headstrong and stubborn. So, those shortcomings may play a hand in that as well; and d) english is not my first language. All things considered, probably not even my second; so, please bear with me and forgive me for any butchering.

* * *

><p><strong>Mischances, Stances and Stolen Glances<br>**_||Chapter Two||_

"Doctor," the nurse came rushing towards the man, "it's the patient from room 42," she added, handing him the chart, "she took her own tube out. She's awake," the woman in her mid-twenties finished.

"Santana Lopez?" he enquired, skimming through the chart.

The nurse nodded, and both rushed to room 42.

"Can you hear me, Miss Lopez?" the doctor in his late thirties asked.

"I already told the other nurse, yes," Santana replied in a husky voice.

"Can you recall anything that happened to you?"

"I, I remember I was talking to Britt, and then I felt this excruciating pain in my head," she squinted, trying to recall everything and process the information. "Was it a brain hemorrhage?" Santana asked softly after a beat.

He nodded.

"Please, follow the light," he commanded, checking her pupils with a tiny flashlight.

"Yeah, I know the drill," the Latina quipped. "Have you called Britt, yet? Have you called my wife?" she asked, looking at the nurse, whom she had asked this before.

"Let's check you out first, huh, Miss Lopez," Dr. Carson said before the nurse could say anything.

Santana was starting to lose the little patience she actually had.

"Can you feel this?" he pricked one of her toes.

"Ouch!" the brunette yelped. "Yeah, I can," she almost growled.

"Did you call her?" she asked the nurse again.

The woman just nodded, afraid to be reproached by the doctor. But that was more than enough to bring some piece of mind to the Latina. For that moment, anyway.

"How about this? Do you feel it?" the doctor asked, rolling a spiky instrument from her ankle to her waist. Santana nodded.

"Can you tell me your name?"

Santana scoffed and rolled her eyes, but played along.

"Santana Pierce-Lopez."

"Who's the president?"

"Bush," she deadpanned. "Unfortunately," the Latina murmured under her breath.

Through her antics, Santana failed to notice the exchange of looks between Dr. Carson and the nurse.

"What year are we in, Miss Lopez?" he questioned further.

"God, haven't we had enough?" Santana complained, but after reading the negative on his face, "2007," she _did_ growl this time.

"Yes, just as I suspected," the doctor stated.

"What do you mean?"

"There's no easy way to break this to you, Miss Lopez," the raven-haired doctor put gently, "but, we're in 2011. You've been in a coma for the last, well, for almost four years now," he concluded.

"What?" Santana asked in disbelief. She looked around, trying to situate herself. _Four_ years? How was that possible? Suddenly all sorts of emotions were running through her head and body, she wanted to stand up and pace, but she felt the weakness in her legs. _Of course, four years was plenty of time to cause atrophy to the best of muscles_, she thought. She continued to roam the room with attentive eyes, and they landed on Dr. Carson's id. That hospital's name, it was where her father worked. Was she in _Lima_?

"Am I in Lima?" she asked no one in particular. It sounded more like a question to herself, really. "I'm not in New York. I'm in Lima," Santana deadpanned, trying to put the puzzle pieces together.

It was then that she started to hyperventilate.

"Calm down, Miss Lopez. It's all ok, you _are_ in Lima," the doctor tried to reassure her.

"Why am I here? I'm not in New York. Where's Brittany? What's going on?" she babbled agitatedly, moving her arms in the same unruly manner.

"Please, calm down. I'll have to sedate you otherwise," the short man warned her.

The word "sedate" caught her attention. She needed to figure this out, she couldn't be sedated. Not at that critical moment. So, she began to check her temper. It was something she had plenty of experience with, anyhow.

"I would like to speak to my father then," the brunette stated, visibly calmer. "Please," she practically begged, and she hated to beg. "I'm sure you know him. He's chief of staff here. Dr. Martin Lopez? Even if he's in surgery, I don't care. I think he'd step out to talk to his no-longer comatose daughter," Santana added, regaining some of her edge back.

There was another look between Dr. Carson and the young nurse. This time Santana caught it, 'though.

"Look… I'll see what I can do," he said in a tone that the Latina couldn't decipher. "I'll come back to take you for some CTs later, ok?" Dr. Carson said before slipping out of room 42 with the nurse behind him.

* * *

><p>Brittany sat behind her Ford Focus' steering wheel. She had been parked on the hospital's parking lot for the last 15 minutes, trying to calm herself down before going to see Santana. The woman was so nervous that even her breathing had become unsteady. She checked her appearance on the rearview mirror for the umpteenth time, wiping some extra lip-gloss that had gone out of her lip line; result of this shakiness that refused to leave her hands. Despite many things – but especially better judgment – she had this uncontrollable need to look good for her wife, well, <em>ex<em>-wife.

And it was _that_ particular topic that was giving Brittany so much grief, and nervousness. How could she look into those big brown eyes that once meant the whole world to her – and if she were to be honest, still do – and tell her that she had someone else? That she had _married_ someone else? She simply… couldn't. She simply couldn't face her. No matter how irrefutable her reasons had been. It was much too much. A heartbreaking and devastating predicament. For both of them. However, on the other hand, she couldn't contain the pure joy to know that _Santana_ was _awake_. That she would get to look into those big brown eyes once again. God, she dreamed of that so many nights!

Brittany was brought back from her bittersweet thoughts by the ring of her phone. She grabbed the object from the top of one of the car's dashboard compartments, Quinn's name was flashing on the screen.

"Hey," Brittany answered.

"Hi, B! Did you call me? I saw your missed call when I stepped out of the shower," Quinn spoke fast and animatedly.

"Yeah, I cal –" the blue-eyed blonde practically whispered, but was cut by an enthusiastic Quinn.

"I mean, I know we're not supposed to spend so much time in there, and God knows how preachy Rach can get about 'the awful state of our beloved Mother Nature', but, come on, right? I deserve some time to relax," the smaller blonde ranted.

"Q…" Brittany tried again in the same low voice.

"God, look at my hair! It totally decided to get rebel to –"

"Quinn!" she finally yelled through her cell, cutting off the other woman.

"Jesus, Britt! Don't you know it's still too early to yell?"

"Quinn… it's San. She woke up today," Brittany let out, resting her head against the steering wheel.

"What? Oh my, God…" Quinn said with disbelief all over her tone.

Several seconds passed.

"Quinn, say something," Brittany pleaded.

"Oh my, God…"

"You already said that."

"I know, I'm just… so happy," the petite blonde concluded, smiling broadly even 'though her friend couldn't see it. "San is… San is awake. I can't believe this, and I can't wait to see her and talk to her, and, I don't know," she started to babble.

"It's unbelievable, right?" Brittany asked wistfully, mimicking her friend's smile even 'though she couldn't see hers.

"B, why do I detect a hint of melancholy in your voice?" Quinn asked softly.

"You know why. I'll… I'll have to tell her, Q. _Everything_," she mumbled, tears starting to well up in her eyes; so, she pulled her head back to try to prevent them from falling.

"Oh…"

"Yeah…"

"I know this will be hard, Britt. I really do. But… it's _San_," Quinn put it matter-of-factly.

"Exactly," Brittany's reply came full of meaning, and followed by a long sigh.

They stayed silent for a while, just hearing each other breath.

"I'll go now, Q. I've been sitting on this hospital's parking lot for too long. I _want_ to see her," the dancer said, drying the moisture of her eyes on her sleeve.

"I love you, B. Both of you," Quinn mumbled genuinely.

"You too, Q," Brittany replied, ending the call and throwing the cell in her purse.

She checked herself on the mirror one last time, grabbed her purse, and went to Santana.

* * *

><p>Brittany walked straight to the nurses' station, moving with that ever-constant grace of the natural dancer she was.<p>

"Hi, I'm Brittany Pierce. I got a call about the patient from room 42, Santana Lopez," she said, towering over the round-shaped counter while looking down at the middle-aged nurse.

The woman punched some keys on the computer's keyboard.

"Yes, I see. Could you wait for a second over there?" the nurse replied nonchalantly, pointing to some chairs. "Dr. Carson will be with you in a moment."

Brittany did what she was told, and in no time Dr. Carson did come to find her.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Michael Carson," the man said in a serious tone, stretching out his hand to her.

"Brittany Pierce," the blonde replied with a faint smile on her face, standing up and shaking on his offered hand.

"So, ma'am, I was with Miss Lopez shortly after she woke up, and I'm glad to say that she doesn't seem to be suffering from any sequelas regarding her time in a comatose state. I mean that she has complete feeling of her legs and her speech is coherent."

"That's excellent, doctor!"

"Yes, we haven't had the chance to scan her brain yet, but judging from the preliminary check-up, everything seems to be at least stable. _However_, she experienced a common problem with coma patients. She was completely unaware of the time elapsed. We had to tell her, and she became very agitated," he said slowly and professionally.

"Did you mention her parents?" the blue-eyed woman asked with concern on her face.

The dark-haired doctor merely shook his head, and then his pager went off.

"I have to go now. You can go in and see her," he informed. "Just try not to agitate her, please," Dr. Carson added, turning around to leave.

A few moments later Brittany stood in front of the door of room 42. An incredibly familiar door to her. One that she had entered countless times before, and yet… she felt petrified with the idea of going in now. However, _Santana_ was in there. Just _one_ single push away. _Awake_. And with that thought she found her courage.

Brittany pushed the door gently, like it was made of the most fragile china ever designed by men. She was met with a familiar sight of Santana lying in a hospital bed. However, the bed was inclined upright, and there was no tube covering that lovely, sexy mouth of hers.

Santana had her head turned, facing the window. She heard the door being opened, but thinking it was one of the annoying nurses coming to check on her for the eleventh time that morning, she didn't bother to turn around right away. When she finally decided to do so, the Latina was met with the sight of the one person, the _only_ person she really wanted to see. Brittany stood there by the door, like out of one of her dreams.

Just like that brown eyes met blue ones, and they held each other's stare. Unreservedly, unabashedly, bitter-sweetly… Through their stare a thousand words were spoken; a silent language they had perfected and mastered along the many years they had known one another. Whose tears began to fall first, they would never know.

Brittany strode to Santana's bedside, enveloping the brunette in a tight hug after sitting on the edge of her bed.

"San… I missed you so much," the dancer cooed through sobs, turning her head to nuzzle the other woman's neck and breath in the Santana scent she had yearned for.

"Hey, don't cry, babe," Santana pleaded, running her hand through a blonde mane. "Come on, you're making me cry, too," she added softly.

"Here, let me look at you," the Latina stated, pulling away from the hug to inspect the blue-eyed woman's face.

Brittany didn't seem to have aged a day. She still had her bangin' body, her long blonde hair still held its shine, her face had managed to avoid wrinkles… but her eyes? Her blue eyes told a different story, Santana noticed. That innocence, that glee and spark that were once there had considerably faded away. Her gorgeous blue eyes were now somewhat blue. Realization that pained Santana beyond measure, but one that she decided better not to mention.

"Almost four years and you look _exactly_ the same: _so_ beautiful," Santana said sincerely, wiping some of Brittany's tears with her thumb.

The blonde couldn't help the blush that took over her cheeks without request. The Latina clearly still had an effect on her. Not a surprising discovery, 'though.

"Except for one thing," Santana whispered, shifting her adoring, yet concerned, gaze to Brittany's flat stomach. "Did you…" she asked, trailing off with scare.

Brittany broke into a wide smile, realizing what the brunette was getting at.

"We had a baby girl, San…"

"Britt… We did? A girl?" Santana cooed, a smile on her face and tears welling up her soft brown eyes again.

Brittany nodded, grinning. "Zoey. She's so smart, and funny, and beautiful, San… You'd be so proud," the blonde said wistfully.

"You chose Zoey," Santana stated in an emotional tone of voice.

"Of course, you should have seen the glint in your eyes when you mentioned that name," Brittany softly put it. "It's a good thing we made those videos," the dancer added, shooting a knowing look at the brunette, who understood it straight away.

"Here," Brittany said in a high pitch, still sitting beside Santana and rummaging through her big purse, "a picture of her, she's three now," she said taking her cell phone out.

She passed the object to Santana with her right hand. The little girl's picture was her cell's wallpaper.

"B, she is…" Santana could barely speak, looking at her daughter's picture. "She is… perfect. Just perfect," the brunette finished, tears rolling down her face.

Brittany's smile grew wider, if possible, and watching Santana cry brought tears of her own down her face.

"She has your hair," the blonde informed.

Santana couldn't contain a chuckle. Zoey was indeed a brunette.

"A couple shades lighter, 'though," the Latina piped in. "And she has your eyes," she mused, studying the picture with untamed interest.

"A couple shades darker, 'though," Brittany mimicked Santana.

"I can't believe she's this big," Santana said wistfully. "I missed so much…" she added, tearing her look away from the screen for the first time to look sadly at the blonde sitting beside her.

"You have all the time in the world to catch up now," Brittany said reassuringly, holding the brunette's free hand gently.

Santana offered her a bittersweet smile, and then handed the dancer's phone back, unable to contain stealing one last glance at her daughter's smiling face. While she was handing Brittany the phone back, 'though, _something_ caught her eye. Something that made her heart clench in her chest, and her stomach turn in a wrenching knot.

A small silence fell upon them as Santana tried to assimilate things, _and_ still manage to keep her emotions in check, to maintain her poker face.

"So…" the Latina finally managed to utter, doing her best to maintain a steady voice. "What's his name?" she finished curtly.

Brittany didn't fail to see the change in Santana's demeanor. Her warm eyes turned cold from one moment to another, and she was sure that the brunette was trying to fight some unknown need to scowl. Unsuccessfully, the blonde should add.

"What? Who?" Brittany asked, furrowing her brows in honest confusion.

"Your husband," Santana clarified bitterly, avoiding the blonde's searching gaze.

Brittany was caught completely off guard. It took her a few seconds – which seemed like hours – to recover from the shock.

"How did you –"

Santana raised her own left hand and interrupted Brittany, "Ours are… _were_ like this," she proclaimed, referring to the yellow gold wedding band in her finger. "So, unless you felt it was out of style and decided on an update…" the Latina trailed off. Both women looking at Brittany's white gold wedding band.

"San, I…" Brittany mumbled, trying lamely to find words.

There it was, the moment she had dreaded; and she was failing epically at it.

"They said you wouldn't wake up and –" she tried to add, but was once again cut off.

"Don't. Just stop," Santana said, not angrily or loudly, just bitterly sad, trying to maintain a stoic façade. "You don't own me any explanations. Not anymore. That ring on your finger is clear proof of that," she scoffed.

And there it was, the hurt in Santana's eyes. She knew the Latina as well as the back of her hand, better even - come to think of it - just the other day she saw this freckle there that she hadn't noticed before; anyways, she _knew_ Santana was trying to conceal any sign of pain, any sign of anything that could remotely be connected to weakness. However, no one could keep a façade 24/7, and the mere seconds that the brunette's faltered, Brittany was the one who always caught it.

"But I want to," Brittany stated.

"I rather not," Santana maintained her stance. "Please," she added, almost pleading, looking at anything but Brittany's eyes. At that the dancer could only comply with the Latina's wish, she knew how proud she was.

Short awkward silence.

"His name?" Santana asked, kicking herself mentally that curiosity was taking the best out of her.

After a beat Brittany answered, holding Santana's reluctant stare, "_Her_ name is Jenna."

It felt like a square punch in the gut, "A girl?" she asked in surprise, taking a sharp intake of breath. The Latina didn't know why, but it felt even worse that it wasn't a guy. Perhaps because both girls have had their fair amount of boys in the past, but they always had been each other's only girl.

Brittany simply nodded, "You've ruined men for me," she stated, smiling to try to lighten the mood. It didn't quite work.

Santana emitted a sardonic sound. "I apologize," she said sarcastically, and Brittany felt the sting. She tried to grab Santana's hand again, but the brunette swiftly pulled it away. Another sting. More painful, 'though. The blonde felt tears threatening to fall.

Another short awkward silence. The wheels in their heads were spinning at full force.

"So, I think I'm starting to get the full picture here," Santana finally said in her best scheming tone of voice. "You met someone new, moved on – whatever you wanna call it - so my parents had to drag their comatose daughter's ass back to fucking Lima," the brunette added, and Brittany's eyes grew as big as saucers.

"How did you get here so fast, anyway? Do they have Concorde airplanes on crack that do New York–Ohio flights now?"

"How could you…" Brittany started angrily, shaking her head in utter disbelief. "How can you even _think_ of something like that, Santana?" she managed to spit out.

Santana just shrugged, toning down the attitude a notch. She hadn't seen the blue-eyed woman this angry in ages.

"That's not what happened _at all_!"

"Enlighten me, then."

"_I_ had to move back to Lima after Zoey was born," Brittany said in a softer tone. "I was having trouble coping with the fact that _my wife_ wouldn't wake up again, and still I had a newborn baby to look after. So, my parents suggested the move, yours agreed, I sold my half on the studio to Quinn, and then we all came back."

They shared a look. Santana's ice melted… a bit.

"What about the kid? I mean, you two are obviously raising her together. Does Zoey even know who I am?"

"Santana!" Brittany admonished.

"What? I'm sorry if I'm having a little trouble to believe that anything is certain anymore," Santana snapped.

"Her name is Zoey Pierce-_Lopez_, Santana. Of course she knows who you are," Brittany said softly, trying to be patient. "Besides, we have been coming here to visit you every weekend since she was a baby. There's a bunch of her drawings in that drawer, you can check out later if you don't believe me," the dancer added, noticing that the brunette's eyes were a little warmer.

Santana fidgeted with one of her pajamas' buttons.

"You're her mother too, San, and you always will be. Nothing will _ever_ change that," the blonde cooed reassuringly, successfully drawing Santana's eyes to her own.

They both just sat there. Exhausted to say the least. The conversation had been nothing but completely emotionally draining.

"Jenna and I –"

"I really don't want to know, Brittany," she sighed softly. "Not now," the brunette added dejectedly, and in an even softer tone. "Could you please get me my dad? I already asked a handful of these morons here, but nothing yet. He's probably in surgery but –"

"San?" Brittany cut her off tenderly, looking the Latina directly in the eye.

_That_ look was all it took. It conveyed the essence of everything that had to be known. She always could read Brittany like a book.

"How?" Santana mustered.

"They –" Brittany began but was interrupted.

"Her too?" the brunette whispered in question, fighting hard to keep the tears at bay.

Brittany nodded sadly, unable to keep _hers_ at bay.

"They were in a car crash."

"How, how long?" Santana mumbled the query. If she kept them short enough, she might make it without breaking in front of the blonde.

"It was right after Zoey's first birthday. I remember they came to the party," the blonde said through tears. "They loved her so much, San. They never said it, you know better than anyone how they were," Brittany added wistfully. "But the way they looked at her… It was the same way they looked at you, babe," she concluded, letting the term of endearment of yore slip.

Santana shook her head; it was beginning to get too hard not to cry. She needed Brittany out of there. She couldn't break in front of her. Not anymore. She no longer had the right to see her coming undone.

"Don't call me that anymore," Santana deadpanned, frankly it hurt too much to hear it after it had lost its whole meaning. "And, could you please leave?"

"I won't leave you alone now, San," Brittany declared, trying and failing again to grab the brunette's hand.

The Latina fought the urge to reply "_You already did"_, which would only keep the blonde there longer; so, she settled for begging, at that moment it felt like the less of two evils, "Please, just leave me alone for a while."

Sensing the other woman's despair Brittany asked, "Are you absolutely sure? I can stay," she offered sincerely, hoping Santana would accept it.

"It would only hurt more," Santana stated firmly, hoping it would get her point across.

Brittany studied Santana, the brunette wanted to cry. There was no doubt about it. It hurt to know that her privileges of seeing the other woman break, and to be able to comfort her, had been so quickly revoked. She understood it, 'though. Santana was the proudest person she had ever known in her entire life. So, if space was what she needed now, the least she could do was give it to her. No matter how badly it hurt.

So, she nodded, smiled and got up from bed.

"I'll bring Zoey over tomorrow. I'm sure she will be dying to see you."

"That would be nice," Santana replied at her wit's end, looking up at the person who was once her wife.

With one last look back before closing the door, Brittany left room 42.

And Santana finally allowed herself to cry on her pillow. Over everything.

* * *

><p>Brittany parked her Focus in front of her little dance studio. She had opened one in Lima after she moved back. It didn't even compare with the one back in New York, and with the work she did there. She took on teaching kids, teens, couples… whomever she could get her hands on really. In a nutshell, it paid the bills, and as long as she was dancing, she was happy.<p>

From inside of the car she could already see Jenna leaning on her Nissan Versa, which was parked just in front of her own car. She got out of the vehicle and went to the smaller blonde.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" Brittany enquired curiously, dropping the car keys in her purse.

"Yeah, but I called in a favor," the green-eyed woman said, kissing the dancer on the cheek. "I wanted to know how it went, how you were," Jenna added. She wore a Wal-Mart id card that hung around her neck and read '_Jenna Barnes – Assistant Manager_'.

Brittany took a deep breath, sighed and leaned on the car beside Jenna.

"How it went? Well, it was hard. Really hard. Probably, no, _definitely_ the hardest thing I've ever done in my life," she answered honestly.

They fell silent for a moment. Jenna wanted to press on how her wife felt, but thought wiser not to at that instant. Everything was still too new.

"And, are we… are we ok?" the green-eyed woman asked, looking sideways at her wife.

After a beat Brittany replied, "Yes, we are," then she placed a comforting hand on the other woman's shoulder, and felt Jenna's hair, which ended just above her shoulders, brush lightly against her knuckles. _What a mess_, Brittany thought.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts. So, please, review it :)<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Glee _nor its original characters (if I did it would probably be called _The Brittany and Santana Show_, and all the other characters would only be there to help advance their plot).

**A/N: **Thanks again for all the reviews, you guys are highly motivational and kind. This chapter took longer to write, thus to be posted. I'm no update teaser, as soon as I finish writing I post. On the upside is also very, very long, and more light (meaning: less angsty). I do love angst and this story's situation is extremely angsty; so, it won't go away in the blink of an eye. However, you can expect memories and flashbacks sprinkled here and there, that should help balance all the angst until everything gets settled *tries to be vague*. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter :)  
>Oh, another thing, since Quinn is a big part of this chapter I must let you know that I don't watch <em>Glee, <em>I only watch Brittany/Santana (I refuse to use lame portmanteaus with couple's names); so, if she comes off a little out of character I apologize in advance. I only have other fics to base her and the other characters on.

Another important subject, people are wondering in reviews if this is in fact a Brittany/Santana fic, and all I have to say is: have some faith folks! *laughs* That aside, of course this is a Brittany/Santana fic. Everybody knows they are endgame. If they don't, they should, right? ;)

By the way, this chapter is dedicated to **Tutorgirl92**; that's right, I'm picking the best review (whether the most amusing, or witty, or longer, or touching...) from each previous chapter to dedicate the next one to. I always love to read what you guys have to say, you're all so entertaining. So, this new feature is for all of you (and me) :)

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><p><strong>Mischances, Stances and Stolen Glances<br>**_||Chapter Three||_

Santana lay on her hospital bed, aimlessly flipping through channels on the television. Apparently, the four years she missed had done nothing to improve the content of the thing. Especially considering the time, it was just around noon. Nothing good ever came out of daytime tv. The Latina had an eventful morning, that's for sure. After Brittany had left, she cried her eyes out, but shortly later ordered herself to 'stop with the blatant self-indulgence, 'cause she had cried enough'. Dr. Carson surfaced moments later and took her for some scans and exams; _all fun stuff_, she thought at the time. At least they showed there was nothing _physically_ wrong with her, but Santana never had been much of a silver-lining kind of gal. That had always been Brittany. She was _all_ about the cloud.

There was a movement of the door, and the brunette took it as her cue to turn the television off. Suddenly she took in the appearance of the older man in white doctor's coat entering her hospital room.

"Well, well, well," the silver-haired man playfully said, "Look who decided to join us," he smiled, approaching the bed.

"Richard!" Santana replied, matching his smile and being wrapped up in a short hug.

"You have no idea how good it is to see you, darling," the sixty year old said softly, pulling back from the hug.

Santana just wistfully smiled.

"I'm sorry it's taken this long for me to come," the older doctor said, pulling up a chair and taking a seat. "I was in Toledo for a medical conference when I got Carson's call."

"It's okay, you didn't have to drive all the way back just to see me, Richard," the brunette replied honestly.

"Of course I did. I mean, what would your father say if I didn't?" Richard said playfully with a smile on his face. He had been Martin's best friend since the girl was barely three. Santana smiled too, and then, after realization, both smiles fell.

"I'm sorry about everything, dear," he sadly put it, looking down for a second.

"Yeah, me too," the brunette replied gloomily, hoping this conversation wouldn't set her waterworks as well.

After a moment of silence, he said enthusiastically, "So, how are you feeling? I bumped into Carson before coming in here and he said things are looking miraculously good."

"Yes, he's told me once or five times how _lucky_ I am," Santana said sarcastically, counting mentally the many _gifts_ this event brought into her life. Pushing the thought aside, she recovered, "The scans are all clear, reflexes are great; so, I'll be fine."

"Great! Now you only need to brace yourself and get ready for the physiotherapy."

"Oh, I can't wait to start with it already. I'm dying to get the hell out of this hospital bed!" Santana said energetically, and Richard laughed.

"Yeah, well, just remember to pace yourself."

"So, you probably, well, you _surely_ don't know this; but, after your parents passed, I was named your legal guardian," Richard began in a more solemn tone, and Santana's puzzled face kept him going, "Martin put it on his will that if anything were to happen with him and your mom I would be the one to do it. The document was drawn before you even married Brittany," he clarified, "I guess he thought he had more time to update it," the silver-haired doctor finished with a deadpan.

"What does that mean exactly?" Santana asked.

"Well, it means that I've been taking care of the things your parents left you, and your own stuff. You know, administrating your estate while you were in a coma," the blue-eyed man stated matter-of-factly.

The Latina was confused. "What about Brittany?" she asked, wrapping her mind around all the information.

"Well, at the time, she didn't contest it," he replied honestly, "She said she was terrible with finances anyways, and that you trusted me, and so did she. So, I took on the financial decisions and helped her as much as I could with the medical ones."

"Then, after the divorce," Richard began, wincing at the last word. "Sorry about that, too," he added softly.

"I'm fine," Santana quipped firmly, putting her walls way up in a familiar self-defense move.

Richard nodded sympathetically, _she sure was her father's daughter_, he thought. "Well, after _it_, which I handled on your end, I just kept on doing what I already was doing."

"Thanks for looking out for me," the brunette said in earnest.

"Always, kid," he said, flashing Santana a wide grin.

"How everything turned out?"

"Well, your father had offered Brittany financial support after your incident, which I only found out after I made the same offer during the divorce, and received the same answer as your dad. She declined it," Richard said with amusement.

"That sounds like Britt," Santana replied with adoration in her voice. And right then she got the real first glimpse of how hard it would be to actually move on.

"But she had agreed to let your father open an account in Zoey's name, where he made monthly deposits, and which she could access later to use it for college or whatever she wanted when she reached majority. Brittany also agreed that I kept up with the deposits," he continued.

"As for your joint account, it was split 50/50," Richard informed her, readjusting his body on the chair.

"Only fair," she said, running a hand through her hair.

"Yeah, well, Brittany only agreed to it after much discussion," the blue-eyed man stated, receiving a puzzled look from the brunette. "We sat at her parents' kitchen for about 3 hours as she attempted to remember how much of it was actually hers. In her own words 'She didn't want to rip you off in any way'. Only after she accepted she couldn't remember the exact figure, she agreed to the 50/50 split… with a pout" he said, still amused.

Santana laughed this time, "Like I said, that's Brittany."

"Regarding your parents' estate, they left you everything, aside from some money your mom left for a couple of her charity causes. Their house here in Lima, the lake house and the Tortola beach property are all already in your name. So are the vehicles. Your dad's car was… totaled," Richard once again winced at the last word, so did Santana, "But your mom's and your old one are working fine. I've been taking both yearly to the dealership for inspection, they should be fine if you want to sell or use them. Hmm, what else?" the doctor said, trying to think.

"Wow, that sounds like a lot of work you did there, Richard," Santana stated thoughtfully.

"Yeah, well, I did it with pleasure," Richard replied honestly, and after remembering something he said, "Oh, your father also had some other investments, stocks and such, but I won't bore you with details now. You must be tired of me already! I'll just put everything together and we'll talk later, ok? You should rest, dear," he finished, getting up and smiling brightly.

Santana matched his smile, and leant forward to give him a hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you, Richard. Really," the Latina began to say sincerely, uttering adoringly the man's name – which once upon a time came after the word 'Uncle', but was later dropped when she reached the age where it had become uncool to say so. "My dad was once again right, you're a good friend, _and_ a good man," Santana added with unusual sweetness.

Richard's smile got even brighter if possible, and he squeezed the young woman's hand to convey his own affection. "They would be _so_ over the moon to have you back… It's a shame."

On that bittersweet note they said their goodbyes, and he promised to visit her again later with Diane, his wife.

* * *

><p>Another thing that remained the same after all these years: hospital crappy food; Santana registered a couple of hours later, stuffing her face with the only good thing that came in her lunch tray: chocolate pudding. She had suffered with the same issue when she was in intern, 'cause turned out cafeteria food wasn't that better than the one served to the patients. Sometimes it was even the same, or worse. And, at the time, she hardly had time to breathe, let alone leave the hospital to get actual, proper, decent food. However, she remembered, there was a certain blue-eyed blonde who made sure to drop by every once in a while to save her from eternal misery. Without time to fight Santana was assaulted by the memory.<p>

_Santana erased from the board the procedure she had just finished in exam room 4 when she felt a presence behind her. She didn't even have to turn to know who it was. Somehow, she always could tell when the woman's eyes were trained on her._

_Without turning around the brunette said with a smile that always seemed to take over her features when talking to her girlfriend, "Hey, you."_

_Brittany smiled, "How did you know it was me?" she asked amused, looking Santana in the eye after the brunette turned around._

"_I always know," the Latina simply replied, receiving a kiss on the cheek._

"_I missed you in bed last night. It takes forever for me to fall asleep when you're not beside me," the blonde almost whispered._

"_I know, babe, I have the same problem," the brunette said in the same tone. "But I didn't even get the chance to properly sleep tonight. I would barely doze off sitting down and they would call with something else to do."_

"_I'm sorry, San. But here," Brittany said with a soft smile, lifting a big paper bag, "I brought you breakfast. Coffee and croissants from Mona's, they're still warm. I know how you hate the food here, and you probably have nothing on your stomach since yesterday," she added, handing the Latina the bag._

_Santana awarded her with the sweet smile reserved just for the blonde. "What would I be without you, huh?" she whispered this time – after all she had a bitch reputation to uphold at the hospital – and placed a chaste kiss on her girlfriend's lips._

"_Not much, I guess," Brittany joked lightheartedly, pulling back._

"_How was the performance last night?" Santana asked with interest. Brittany was part of a modern dance company._

_Before Brittany could respond a guy in scrubs called from afar, "Lopez, they need you at exam 6!"_

"_You should go, babe," the blue-eyed woman stated. "Looks like you'll be eating them cold," she added, looking at the bag on Santana's hand._

"_Even if I have to work with one hand only, I'll be eating these now, thank you very much," the Latina protested, smiling._

"_Bye, S," the dancer kissed her again quickly on the lips, and turned around to leave._

_Santana looked around searching, and quickly entered a patient's room, stealing something from his bedside._

_Leaving the room she saw Brittany approaching the hospital's front door. Slightly jogging towards the blonde, the Latina called out, "Hey, Britt!"_

_Brittany turned around and found herself face to face with a flushed Santana._

"_Here," the brunette said with a foolish grin, handing the blonde a single white rose while still holding the paper bag underneath her other arm. And then she leaned closer and whispered something in the dancer's ear._

_Brittany smiled with adoration before saying, "I love when you say it like that." Both women held the other's intense gaze._

"_Lopez, today would be good!" the same guy called out, causing Santana to roll her eyes._

"_I'm coming!" she yelled back with annoyance. Then her tone was back to sweet, and she told her girlfriend, "I'll see you back home, ok?"_

"_I can't wait."_

Just then her door opened again. Seriously, her room had more people coming in and out than a whore-house at war times, Santana mused. The movement brought her back to her new, twisted reality. Anyhow, that had been yet another sign for Santana that she would have a _serious_ hard time moving on with her life. It seemed like every memory she had was somehow attached to Brittany. At that particular juncture she wished she hadn't known the blonde for practically her whole life.

The Latina was met with a pair of very familiar faces, with _very_ uncertain looks in their matching hazel eyes as they made an awkward and slow entrance.

Quinn and James looked at her expectantly, almost fearfully, and at that moment she couldn't help herself.

"Who… who are you?" Santana asked in a low, fragile voice, shifting her look from Quinn to James, doing her best to look as puzzled as possible.

Her two friends exchanged this sheer look of panic, but then they saw the corners of Santana's mouth turning mischievously up into a smug grin.

"Jesus, you're _still_ such a bitch!" Quinn admonished, placing her hand over her heart. "You almost gave me a heart attack, Santana!"

Santana laughed. "And you're _still_ such a drama queen! I told you Man-hands would rub off on you," the brunette teased, stuffing her spoon into the pudding.

Quinn shook her head, wearing a sweet smile on her face, "Aww, I missed this. I missed _you_ so much, San," the blonde said, taking a seat on the edge of the Latina's bed and hugging her.

Santana matched her smile and looked at James, who was still a bit stunned by her earlier prank. "Aww, did I scare little Jimmy?" the brunette teased.

Recovering his wit, Jimmy looked down at his crotch and said, "Nah, he's quite alright. Thank you very much," and then he flashed Santana a megawatt smile, kissed her forehead, and sat on the chair by her bed.

Santana and Quinn shared a disgusted look, which only made his smile get wider.

"We came right after Britt called," Quinn said.

"Yeah, as soon as we found an open flight," Jimmy added.

"Rach wanted to come too, but she's finally starring in a buzzed off-Broadway play, and she _could_ have come – ok, I won't get into that argument again – but you know her, she'll die before she let her understudy perform one night. She's been convinced the woman is out to get her, I just…" Quinn babbled, talking profusely with her hands.

"It's fine, Q. I know Solo-hogger," Santana quipped playfully, nodding her head for emphasis. "Besides, I know she wanted to be here," the Latina plainly added, receiving a warm smile from a satisfied Quinn.

"Can you believe I'm 30?" Santana said, trying to lighten up the mood. "_We're_ 30, actually," she corrected herself, getting back to eat her pudding.

"I know, right? Crazy!" Quinn almost shrieked.

"_Actually_, I'm 31 now, ladies," Jimmy interjected animatedly, leaning a bit forward on his chair.

"That's right… Now pipe down, grandpa," Santana teased, and she and Quinn – Jimmy too – laughed.

"We still look 25, 'though," the blonde said with a smug.

"Damn right!" the brunette reinforced. "We barely changed, except for Jimmy's hair. What happened to the shaggy mane, Graham? It already took like, _half an hour_, for you to style that thing before we could go anywhere. Now with this spiky new 'do we'll be lucky if you arrive in time for dessert!"

Jimmy muffled an exaggerated sarcastic laugh. "Very funny, Lopez! Is that thing even on?" the brown-haired man quipped, and stated after a beat, "You are looking paler, 'though."

"Yeah, well, 4 years in a hospital bed will do that to you, Sherlock."

"But you look thinner, too," Quinn gave her two cents, looking at her friend from head to toe.

"At least _one_ good thing came out of all of this, then," the Latina said with a smirk.

"And how are you, San?" James asked; concern all over his voice.

"How am I?" the brown-eyed woman repeated morosely, "I'm _peachy_," she concluded sarcastically.

Her cardiologist friend was about to press further, but backed down after receiving one of Santana's best engineered glares.

"Physically, then? I'll settle for knowing how you are physically," James asked, finding courage enough to amend his previous query. "For now," he added, pushing his luck.

The Latina breathed out heavily. "I've had CTs and physicals; everything seems to be running smoothly. No permanent damage whatsoever. I'll just have to work my ass off in physiotherapy. My leg muscles are very stiff," Santana replied honestly, and mildly annoyed.

"That's awesome, S," Quinn said, running her hand up and down her friend's arm.

"Yeah, yeah, but enough about me," the Latina stated; uncomfortable with being the center of attention, well, at least in _that_ way. She never minded a spotlight. "What interesting things happened with you guys in the last, hmm, _four_ years?" she asked, sadly finishing her chocolate pudding.

"Hmm, let me see, oh, the dance studio got a mention on New York Magazine last month," Quinn beamed.

"Quite impressive. Congrats!" Santana said, smiling at her long-time friend. "What else? Give me more, people," she added, making the worldly recognized 'give me more' hand gesture.

"My turn; I broke my leg in two places while skiing earlier this year," Jimmy stated confidently, almost proud.

"Yeah, and that would be completely fascinating… _if_ you hadn't broken a limb at Big Bear every year since I met you," Santana quipped, shaking her head with pursed lips in place.

Santana turned her expectant gaze at Quinn, the blonde felt a wave of nervousness before chancing, "Rach and I bought a beautiful ficus for our living room?" it came out more like a question than a statement.

"_God_, my friends are lame. You're killing me here, people," the Latina whined exaggeratedly.

"Oh, oh," Jimmy began excitedly, "I ran into Marianne Stanton last year in a medical congress and she's - wait for it - totally fat! _And_ orange!" the tall man finished, grinning from ear to ear.

Santana couldn't contain a chuckle. "_Now_ we're getting somewhere good here," she said playfully. "That bitch was so smug back in college, thinking she was all that shit… Good for humanity, I say."

"What about girlfriends, Jimmy? Finally dating anyone special? Or maybe you even got married already. I mean, it seems to be all the rage now," Santana playfully said, but failed to keep the bite and bitterness from seeping through her tone of voice.

All three friends exchanged slightly awkward looks before Jimmy could say, "Not really. You know me: the eternal bachelor," the hazel-eyed British tried to lighten the mood, smiling awkwardly 'though.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, everyone knowing what the other was thinking about, but too afraid or feeling too awkward to say anything.

"Ok, then…" Santana began, "_I'll_ address the elephant in the room. What does she look like?" the brunette asked with her best poker face in place.

"Who?" Jimmy feigned confusion. Badly, by the way. He had always been a terrible liar.

"You know who!" Santana scoffed, and then played along with exasperation, "Gemma."

"Jenna," Quinn corrected absentmindedly.

"Whatever," the Latina said dismissively with a wave of hand.

"Well, she's about your height, maybe an inch or two taller. Blonde hair about this long," the petite blonde said, putting her hand just above her shoulder. Santana was feeding off the information like a famished child feeding from a bottle. It was like she wanted to know everything and nothing at the same time. "What else, hmm, green eyes, small frame…" Quinn added.

"Nice ass," Jimmy added to Quinn's description, earning an intense glare from Santana.

"Yours is much nicer, 'though. Seriously," the cardiologist amended in earnest. Santana wasn't buying much, 'though. "And your rack? 100 times hotter," he finished, slipping back into the Latina's good grace.

"How old is she?"

"Mid thirties, I think," Quinn said pensively.

Santana snorted. "And what does Brittany's old half do?"

"I don't know exactly, something to do with management at Wal-Mart," the blonde replied.

"Really? Please tell me there's a vest involved," the brunette joked, already mentally coming up with 100 vest jokes.

Quinn just rolled her eyes. "I don't think so."

"How long have they been married?"

"Hmm, I came to their wedding, uh, one year, one year and a half ago, I think," Quinn said, trying hard to remember.

Santana looked a bit hurt, not very noticeably 'though. "You came to their wedding?" she asked softly.

Before Quinn could answer, James beat her to the punch by saying proudly, "I totally did _not_ come," he stood up briefly and put his arm up for Santana to high-five him, which she did with an amused smile and a slight eye-roll.

"Yeah, instead you came up with the worst excuse ever. I mean, irritable bowel syndrome? She totally knew you were lying," Quinn reproached with a baffled look on her face.

"What? Everyone knows I'm a terrible liar!" Jimmy tried to defend himself. "Besides, I was watching 'Along Came Polly' when I called her, which fed me the idea," he finished awkwardly.

"More like _re_-watching it! Still with the bad taste for rom-coms, huh, Graham? You're such a chick!" Santana teased. Jimmy just averted his gaze with slight shame.

"I had to come, San," Quinn said softly, and almost apologetically. "Along with you, she's one of my oldest friends, and – let's face it – one of my few real ones at that, too," she added, looking straight into brown eyes.

"I understand it, Q. I really do," Santana said in the same soft tone, and after a beat she added genuinely, "I'm glad you were there for her." They exchanged a brief knowing look.

"How was it when she came to see you?" Jimmy asked.

"How do you think?" Santana snapped, not angrily just very Santana-like. "It was tense, and awkward, and downright uncomfortable," the brunette said. "But it was nice, too. Seeing and talking to her…I have _a daughter_, you guys," the Latina finished wistfully, with a tender smile gracing her features.

"We know," Quinn gushed. "Our goddaughter," she added, beaming, and Jimmy was doing the same.

Santana's eyes lit up. "She asked the three of you?" the Latina asked emotionally, she was clearly touched. "We had planned to do it once the kid was born… I didn't know she followed through with it."

"She did," Jimmy answered, also visibly emotional. "Through many sobs, but she did. You know, as the bro part in this chick-bromance of ours, I feel is my duty to let you know how devastated your lady was after what happened to you. I've never seen anyone that sad, it even broke my cold English heart. So, before you go getting any _crazy_ ideas, I thought you should know that," the British man put softly, and at that moment Santana couldn't remember ever loving him more.

"He is absolutely right, you know?" Quinn reinforced softly, giving her girl friend's hand a reassuring squeeze.

Santana didn't say anything, and she didn't have to after looking at James and Quinn with such adoration. And after offering them a rare sweet smile, which was matched precisely by her friends. The Latina didn't have many friends, but the ones she got…

After a quiet, comfortable moment of silence, Santana asked enthused, "So, tell me about Zoey," she couldn't help but smile wide at the mention of her favourite new name.

"Oh my God, San! My goddaughter is _amazing_. Smart, funny, adorable…" Quinn gushed, smiling broadly. "It's even hard to believe she's _your_ offspring," the hazel-eyed woman joked, and Santana playfully smacked her arm. "Didn't B bring her to see you?"

"Tomorrow after school," Santana said matter-of-factly. "I'm already starting to feel a little nervous, I mean, I've never been that crazy kid person. What if she doesn't like me?" the brunette added honestly, always the insecure one.

"Impossible," James stated curtly, sounding extra British. "We've told the little monster so many stories about you and your badassness… You'd be surprised at how much the kid worships you," he finished with a smile.

Santana still seemed doubtful.

"It's serious, San. Between me, Jimmy, Rach, Brittany, Ally and all those videos you made that she's constantly watching, you've got the girl in the bag," Quinn added reassuringly, making Santana beam with excitement for their actual first meet.

"What's with the bags?" the Latina asked, noticing the discarded items by the bottom of her bed. "Hopefully presents. You two own me like, _four_ belated birthday gifts," she joked.

"As a matter of fact, I brought you an ipod with new music. You've got a lot to catch up," Jimmy said, handing her his bag.

"Aww, so sweet of you, James Edward Graham. Have I told you I love you?" the brunette said playfully, taking the bag.

"Only during sex, love," Jimmy quipped with a smirk on his face. Santana and Quinn smiled, shaking their heads collectively.

"And I brought you a couple of books to keep you entertained, and a bunch of trashy magazines. I know how you love to pretend you don't love them," Quinn said, smiling and handing her the other bag.

"Thanks, Q," Santana said with an appreciative smile on her face.

"What? No declarations of love for me?" the hazel-eyed woman joked, feigning to be deeply hurt.

"So, besides rubbing off her drama queen ways, Dwarf is _also_ rubbing off her neediness on you too, Fabray?" Santana teased, and it was Quinn's turn to playfully smack the Latina.

"You know, that's not the only thing Rach rubs on me, Santana," Quinn winked at her suggestively.

"Oh my, God!" Santana practically shouted. "You totally scarred me for life. I hope you're happy with yourself!"

"Thanks for the mental gift, Quinnie!" Jimmy put both of his thumbs up, and winked back at Quinn, who rolled her eyes. Santana grinned.

They were interrupted by a built Asian guy, who entered Santana's room pushing a wheelchair.

"Santana Lopez?" he asked the brunette woman in bed.

"Whatever it was, it wasn't me," Santana joked midst an easy smile, still caught up in their previous teasing momentum.

He didn't know how to respond to that, so he simply ignored it, furrowing his brows. "I'm Danes, your physiotherapist. Dr. Richard Hannover sent me; he said you wanted to start your treatment immediately. So, are you ready for me?"

"More than ready! The sooner I can get out of this hospital bed the better."

"That's the spirit I like to see in my patients! Now, let's get you on this wheelchair so we can go to the treatment center," the congenial man said, smiling while pushing the wheelchair closer to the bed.

"I'll help you out, mate," Jimmy said, standing up while Quinn did the same.

The guys placed Santana onto the wheelchair with remarkable ease.

"Come on, you two," the Latina said to James and Quinn. "I'll need all the cheering I can get. I hope you brought your old uniform, Q. And, don't worry, Jimmy. I can lend you mine," she added, teasing.

"Well, the thing is, your butt is too big. I don't think it will fit me properly," Jimmy quipped, as he and Quinn followed Danes, who pushed a wheelchair-bound Santana towards the center.

"Just… shut up, Jimmy!" the brunette snapped while her friends and Danes laughed.

Santana worked her ass off. Between curses, growls, scowls, glares, and all sorts of general abuse, she and Danes developed a love/hate kind of dynamic. Quinn and James did their best to lighten up the mood to get her mind off of the extreme exercise regime. Santana wanted to get out of that hospital so bad that she didn't mind working a bit harder. Besides, she was accustomed with strain. The brunette had worked under Sue's boot camp training after all.

Near the end of the day Santana's friends said their goodbyes. They still had a drive to Dayton's airport ahead of them – in a _ridiculously tiny rental car_, as Jimmy had put it – and a date with a red eye flight back to New York. James had surgery the next day, Quinn had work… life went on, despite of any desires to stop time and just be. But they would go home with their friend's parting words still lingering in their minds, _"Thanks for coming, you two. I really needed this."_ And those words made any journey seem worthwhile to them.

* * *

><p>"Can we go <em>now<em>, mommy?" Zoey asked for the second time in the last 3 minutes, looking up at Brittany, who talked to Jenna in their kitchen, and stomping her little red chucks at them.

Despite the child's protests, Brittany had decided to drop some work stuff home before going to visit Santana instead of going directly from the little girl's preschool to the hospital. Since the blonde had told her daughter that _mama_ – as the child had taken to call the Latina – had woken up, the kid was relentless on going to visit her.

"In a minute, honey. Let me just finish talking to Aunt Jenna, ok?" Brittany said, ever so patient, and the child bounced off of view again.

"I just hope she doesn't get disappointed," Jenna said, taking in the kid's excitement. "I mean, with all the stories from Quinn, Rachel, James, your sister… you know, the poor woman would have to be Wonder Woman to live up to that," she finished sincerely.

"Zoey will be fine. I'm sure Santana will be great with her," the dancer replied confidently.

"Yeah, but from the stories _I've_ heard, Santana doesn't strike me as a kid person, if you know what I mean," the green-eyed woman said with concern.

"Honey, relax," Brittany soothed, "Zoey was very much wanted, Santana and I couldn't wait longer to finally have her. I'm sure she will do fantastically," the taller blonde added, running her hand up and down her wife's arm.

"I hope so. I would just hate to see Zoey getting her heart broken."

"I can bet my life that she won't."

"Can we go _now_?" Zoey asked in the same fashion, carrying two stuffed animals under one arm, another bigger one under the other, and a small backpack on her back that looked extra bulky.

Taking in her daughter's appearance, Brittany said hardly containing a grin, "Where do you think you're going with that entourage, daughter of mine?"

"I want them to meet mama, too," Zoey said like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"I'm sure that she'll have plenty of time to meet the whole gang, but for today let's just take at most two guys, ok?"

The blue-eyed girl put the stuffed animals on the floor, alongside the backpack, which she opened to properly inspect. Looking like she was making Sophie's choice, Zoey finally reached her decision.

"Ok, I'll take Rainbow and Sparkles, then," she said with a slight pout, holding a stuffed duck and unicorn.

"Wonderful! Let's go them," the words had barely left Brittany's mouth and Zoey was already dashing for the front door. "What about Aunt Jenna's goodbye?" the taller blonde added, making the kid rush back to give the woman's leg a quick hug, and resuming the dash to the door.

"Goodbye, Aunt Jenna," she shouted running.

Brittany shook her head, beyond thrilled to see her daughter this happy to _finally_ get to meet her mama properly, "We'll be back soon," she said, giving Jenna a quick peck on the lips.

"I'll be here," the smaller blonde replied with a small smile on her face as she watched her wife leave, getting this weird sense that life as she knew was about to change somehow. She wasn't keen on it.

* * *

><p>Santana listened to her new ipod, filled with songs that she'd never heard before. She had been too anxious waiting for Brittany's visit. She was finally getting to meet her <em>daughter<em>, _Zoey_, and that was… huge. So, she decided to calm herself with music. It always managed to relax her a bit. She had fixed her hair earlier; a steady, well put together, high ponytail, with her bangs neatly stretched across her forehead and neatly tucked behind the opposite ear. Her lips were also looking very lively, completely covered with the lip gloss she had snagged from Quinn the day before. She wanted to look good for her kid. First impressions counted for something. Among those thoughts and unfamiliar tunes she saw her door moving. _Showtime_, she thought. _Be cool, Santana_, she thought again, turning her ipod off and placing it on the nightstand.

Brittany pushed open Santana's door with Zoey in tow, one stuffed animal snuggled under each arm.

"Hey, San," Brittany beamed, smiling, still amazed to be saying those words again to an awaken Santana. Outside of her dreams, obviously.

"Hey," Santana said to Brittany, and then directed her eyes to the little girl standing by the blonde's side, in a pair of red chucks, jeans and a pink-lilac-aqua-white plaid shirt. "And hey, you," she crooned, trying her best not to shift into her ugly-cry right there, and probably scare the bejesus out of the kid.

Zoey looked up at Santana, and then at Brittany, seeming a bit unsure.

"You've been babbling non-stop about meeting your mama the whole day, and now that we're here you won't even say hi to her?" Brittany asked playfully, smiling and looking down at her daughter.

The blue-eyed girl tugged on Brittany's hand, balancing to not let the stuffed animal fall. Brittany complied, leaning down, and Zoey whispered something in her mommy's ear. Santana looked puzzled, and Brittany just grinned.

"No, baby, you won't break her. Go ahead," the blonde answered with a laugh, and watched as her daughter ran towards the Latina's bed, clumsily climbed it, and placed a hard, sloppy kiss on the cheek of an unsuspecting Santana.

"Hi, mama!" the kid exclaimed enthusiastically, and rather melodically, pulling back.

It was impossible to determine which heart melted with more intensity: Santana's or Brittany's.

After regaining her composure Santana smiled and said energetically, "Wow! That was some kiss! What did I do to deserve that, huh?"

The little girl just smiled and shrugged.

"You know, when you were still in your mommy's belly," Santana began in the sweetest of tones, running her hand along Zoey's silky, long, brown hair, "I always used to dream about what your little hands would look like…" she added, taking the girl's hand, "how your tiny nose would be…" the brunette added, touching the tip of the girl's nose, causing a giggle to escape the kid's lips, "what you would smell like…" she added, nuzzling Zoey's little neck and intensifying her giggles, "But never in my wildest dreams I dreamed of something as perfect as you," Santana finished, unable to keep her tears at bay.

She stole a glance at Brittany, and saw that the blonde was crying as well.

Zoey put her stuffed animals aside for the first time after climbing the bed, and scooted closer to Santana. The little girl took in her mama's tears and looked puzzled.

"Why are you crying, mama?" Then she looked back at Brittany and saw her crying too. "And you too, mommy?"

"These are happy tears, sweetie. I'm just glad that we're all here together, talking and laughing," Santana explained softly, and then she really looked at Brittany and added, "I'm sure your mommy feels the same." Brittany's words were caught in her throat, so she simply nodded.

"Like when Grandma Annie cried when I 'gived' her that drawing I made with Aunt Ally for her birthday?" Zoey asked, trying to see if she really understood the meaning of 'happy tears'.

Brittany forced her words to come out. "'Gave', Z," she softly corrected, "And, yeah, just like that," she added with a smile. The kid smiled proudly of herself; and so did Santana, proud of Zoey, of course. The girl was really sharp, but then again, every parent thought that of their own child.

The blonde woman took the opportunity to take a seat on the chair by Santana's bedside, placing something on top of her nightstand.

"I brought you a milkshake for later, I know how you hate hospital food. I would have brought a burger too, but I didn't know if you could eat solids yet," the blue-eyed woman said with a tender smile as she looked at Santana.

"You shouldn't have troubled yourself," the brunette replied slightly cold, holding the dancer's gaze.

"_Please_, it's nothing," Brittany scoffed. "Reminds me of old times," she added nostalgically, smiling.

"Old times?" Santana asked nonchalantly, feigning not to know what the other woman was talking about when she certainly knew quite well.

"When you worked those crazy shifts at the hospital and I always brought you decent food," Brittany explained, buying the brunette's bluff.

"Oh, right," Santana said, faking remembrance. The Latina didn't know why she did these things sometimes. But, frankly, she did. Know why, that is. Self-defense.

"Hello?" Zoey said, not digging not being the center of attention anymore.

Santana grinned widely, directing her gaze back at her daughter. "Look at the little attention-demander," she quipped, tickling the little girl who laughed hysterically on top of the Latina.

"Just like her mama, huh?" Brittany joked, smiling from ear to ear at the sight of Santana and her daughter getting along so well. Her heart suddenly felt too big for her chest.

Santana could have glared at the blonde, but, somehow, she felt utter joy hearing she and Zoey had similar trades. No matter how flattering or unflattering they sounded. So, she just displayed an amused smile. The brunette felt so comfortable and so happy with how this first meeting was going that she had to also laugh at herself for being so nervous before. Everything just felt so… right.

The Latina stopped with the tickling and took in her daughter's full height and weight on top of her. Then she said smiling, "Oh my, God! You're such a big girl! How old are you again?"

"Three," Brittany beat Zoey to the punch.

"And a half," the blue-eyed girl clarified, pride laced in her voice.

"And a half," the blonde repeated matter-of-factly. "Can't forget _that_."

"Naturally," Santana mused, smiling – she couldn't keep it out of her face, apparently. "So, I've been told that you even attend school already! Do you like it?" she added, making conversation easily.

"Lots!" Zoey almost shouted, unable to contain her enthusiasm.

"Hon', please don't shout," Brittany asked patiently. "This is a hospital, remember?" she added softly.

The girl looked apologetic, and Santana couldn't help but notice what a great mom Brittany truly was. Patient, sweet, adoring, nurturing… The Latina never had any doubt she would be like this, but it was even nicer to see it at first hand. At that moment Brittany looked at her, and Santana averted her admiring gaze. No need for the blonde to see that. To see how pathetic she still managed to render her.

"Lots," Zoey repeated lower than before, having Santana's full attention again. "We play, we colour, meet with our friends, learn new stuff…" she added enthusiastically.

"Seems like a really cool place indeed," Santana said nodding. "What about your teacher? What's her name? Is she nice or just a bi –" she stopped mid-sentence feeling Brittany's glare at her, and also realizing for herself what she was about to say; so, she amended, "– iiig silly lady?"

She glanced at Brittany and saw her smiling, which she involuntarily mimicked. And then she saw the blonde mouthing '_nice save_'.

"Her name is Miss Miller, and she's very nice. She plays with us."

"I see," Santana said.

"Aren't you going to introduce mama to your friends over there?" Brittany asked, pointing to the long-discarded stuffed animals. "You were so pumped," she added, directing an amused look at the Latina.

Zoey busied herself grabbing them euphorically, she had totally forgotten about them with all the talk. "Mama, this is Rainbow," she beamed, handing Santana the unicorn, "And this is Sparkles," the little girl added, holding the duck on her lap.

"Wow! Nice friends you've got, kiddo!"

Zoey nodded and said, "Rainbow sleeps with me every day."

She then leaned closer and whispered something in Santana's ear. They both giggled.

"Hey! No secrets," Brittany whined in an exaggerated mocking way.

Zoey bought it anyway, like any other child would, and said sheepishly, "I just told mama that sometimes, when you're scared at night too, you ask me to borrow you Sparkles so he can sleep with you." Brittany blushed slightly.

"Yeah, your mommy always had a soft spot for ducks."

"They're cute," the blonde said, defending herself.

"I think too," Zoey chanted with a smile.

Both looked at Santana expectantly.

"If you two say so, who am I to disagree?" the brunette said, amused. "I think they're cute too," she added smiling.

Zoey and Brittany clapped their hands in glee just like the blonde always used to do, and _Santana's_ heart suddenly felt too big for her chest this time.

The little girl, who was then practically mounted on Santana, noticed the Latina's lip gloss. "Your lip gloss is pretty, mama," she stated simply with that complete sincerity that only kids possess.

"Thanks, honey," Santana said, touched. "I actually nabbed it from Quinn yesterday."

"Quinn was here?" Brittany asked at the same time as Zoey.

"Aunt Quinn is here?" Zoey asked at the same time as Brittany.

"Well, she and Jimmy visited me yesterday," Santana answered both. "They asked me to say hello to you two," she added, looking from the blonde to her daughter. "They couldn't stay longer, but they promised to come later to stay for a while."

Brittany and Zoey seemed satisfied with her answer, then after a beat the kid said softly, "I miss my godparents."

"I know, baby," the blonde leaned forward on the chair, and caressed the girl's forearm. "They will come back soon," she crooned soothingly.

Santana took in Brittany's closer proximity and looked deep into blue eyes. "You asked them," she stated softly, almost as a whisper. Her eyes looked warm, like they always once were when they looked at her, Brittany noted.

"Of course. We had decided," the blonde replied in the same fashion as Santana's statement.

They stayed like that, holding each other's stare for what it seemed like a century, but was probably mere seconds. Both wanting to say more, but not entirely sure on _what_ exactly. A nurse interrupted them.

"Is the silver Focus yours?" the nurse asked Brittany, popping her head in and feeling three pairs of eyes on her.

"Yes. Why?"

"You parked in a prohibited zone, you'll have to move it," she stated simply.

"Now?" the blonde asked, and the nurse just nodded before popping back out.

"I'll…" the blonde began to say, pointing her head to the door.

"I'll look after her. We'll be fine, won't we, Z?" Santana asked, already taking property of the girl's nickname. Zoey just nodded with an easy smile.

"Ok. Be right back."

* * *

><p>Santana lay in bed with Zoey curled up beside her, both highly propped up and leaning back on the brunette's pillow. They were listening to music on Santana's new ipod, sharing the earbuds. One to each.<p>

"Next," Zoey called, and Santana pressed the button.

"Next," she said again, and Santana pressed again.

"Next," she said again, and Santana pressed again.

"This one!" Zoey exclaimed. "I love it."

"Great," the brunette said smiling, pleased to please her daughter. "Let's hear it then," she added, not recognizing the artist. _Shocker_, she thought.

Zoey started to giggle.

"What are you giggling at, Miss Giggles?" the Latina asked, smiling wider.

"Mommy likes to dance goofy to this song," Zoey said through giggles.

"She does, doesn't she?" Santana asked rhetorically with amusement. "I bet she does. She can be pretty goofy, that mommy of yours," she added. "And we love it, don't we?" Santana finished, sweetness laced in her tone.

Zoey nodded and they giggled more, right then Brittany returned. The blonde took in the sight in front of her, and felt overjoyed. Santana and Zoey exchanged a hand-caught-in-the-cookie-jar look as Brittany walked further into the room towards the bedside.

"What are you guys giggling so hard at?" she asked playfully, arching an eyebrow at them.

"Nothing, mommy," Zoey answered in the least convincing tone ever.

The Latina turned off the ipod and cast it aside.

"Yeah, not a thing, Brittany," Santana said, and Brittany couldn't help but notice that, since she had told Santana about her marriage, the brunette only used her full name. It frankly bothered her, but she let it be. Things were too nice to darken the mood.

"Ok, then… I'll let it slide, only because we have to go. The nurse lady said visiting hours is far over," the blonde said.

"Already?" Zoey whined, wearing a very Brittany-like pout, Santana noticed.

"It's fine. They pulled the same sh… shenanigans," Santana amended; she was getting good at that, "with Quinn and Jimmy yesterday. Just call her in here and I'll give her a piece of my mind," the brunette finished.

"Yeah, she ain't coming in here, San. She told me how you made her cry yesterday," Brittany said, shaking her head for emphasis.

"She's just too sensitive," the Latina retorted defensively.

"Yeah, right... I for one don't want to be banned from visiting you. So, let's get going, baby," the blonde stated, outstretching her hand to Zoey, who still lay next to Santana.

The little kid hopped off the bed as quick as a cat. She had a sad expression on her face, and looked about to cry.

"Don't be sad. We'll come back often," Brittany reassured, looking down at her daughter while patting her hair.

"Every day?" Zoey tried her luck, looking up at her mommy with puppy-dog eyes. Santana was beyond herself with happiness, seeing how much her daughter cared for her. She felt tears threatening to well up.

"Ok, every day. If your mama doesn't mind," Brittany said, looking at Santana. She knew the brunette wouldn't object, in fact, she would love it. She just wanted the Latina to get the glory for appeasing their daughter.

Zoey turned back to inspect Santana and hear her verdict.

Santana looked at the dancer appreciatively, and flashed both of them a megawatt smile, saying, "I would love it!"

"Yay!" Zoey beamed, clapping her hands together.

"Ok, now that that's settled, go pick up your friends so we can go."

Zoey did what she was told, placing again one stuffed animal under each arm.

"Come here, sweetie," Santana spoke softly, beckoning her daughter, who quickly complied. The Latina leaned forward and whispered something in Zoey's ear. Taking in Santana's face and demeanor, Brittany didn't even have to hear her daughter's reply to know what the love of her life had said in their daughter's ear.

Either way she got her confirmation when the little girl hugged Santana, and replied sweetly, "I love you too, mama." The brunette then kissed her daughter's cheek.

Zoey walked back towards Brittany, who was almost by the door then, and stood by the blonde's side.

"I'll see you tomorrow, San."

"Yeah, I'll see both of you tomorrow."

When Brittany opened the door, Zoey went back running to Santana's side and handed her the duck. "Here, I'll let Sparkles sleep with you, mama. You won't be alone. He'll protect you," the kid said simply, and Santana felt a surge of love for her daughter of such magnitude that she felt her heart wouldn't take it, that it would actually burst. Her eyes started to well up again.

Brittany watched the scene unfold in awe. She had never felt prouder of her child and her infinite kindness and love supply like she did just there.

"Thank you so much, baby," Santana managed to say, holding Sparkles tightly.

She smiled at her kid, and her kid smiled back before running back to Brittany.

Both women exchanged a long look of awe, admiration, love and completion. They smiled at one another, and the blonde closed the door after Santana and Zoey waved bye.

Santana laid there in her afterglow as she thought about the amazing child she had gained. And how maybe, _just maybe_, things weren't as bleak as she initially thought. More than ever she felt she should work extra hard to get the hell out of that hospital, and into her daughter's life.

* * *

><p><strong>That's it for now! Hope you guys appreciated it. Let me know, hit the review button ;)<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Glee _nor its original characters (if I did it would probably be called _The Brittany and Santana Show_, and all the other characters would only be there to help advance their plot).

**A/N: **Wow, you guys overwhelm me with your reviews... Thanks for taking the time. I realize it's kinda of a pain to hit that button and write something, but (I'll have you know) it really makes a difference. Hope you enjoy this new instalment. Again, it's quite long )

** This chapter is dedicated to **MattyBelkin** and **BasicsNlittlelove**,'cause I really couldn't decide between you two. I guess I love a good anecdote (especially one that features random outbursts at innocent screens, yeah I'm looking at you Matty) as much as I love amusing ramblings (yeah, I'm looking at you Basics). Hope you're ok sharing the spot =D

** Oh, another thing, I apologize for making so many of you cry. Well, at least I hope it's a good cry :) And for those a bit, uh, _confused_ with the timeline of things, Brittany actually got married to Jenna about 2.5 years after Santana got into a coma. So, don't be so hard on the lady. Besides, time really isn't the essence (not the real point) in this situation. If you haven't realized that yet, I hope you wind up getting around to it. Cheers!

* * *

><p><strong>Mischances, Stances and Stolen Glances<br>**_||Chapter Four||_

Santana lay in bed, all tired and sweaty from another workout session with Danes. After Brittany and Zoey left, she felt a burst of energy and desire to get the hell out of that godforsaken place, and she took it all out on the physiotherapy. The only thing that could really get her out. Brad Danes was a real sadistic dick, and the Latina had told him that. He, on the other hand, informed her that _she_ was the real masochist there, and to stop trying to make him out to be the bad guy. They had found their thing.

The brunette took the opportunity to inspect her body better. She already had done so after she woke up, but a further inspection couldn't hurt anybody. Santana had always been a vain person, and a _simple_ coma didn't change that. The Latina had gathered many things along the days. She noticed that her nails were clipped neatly; they were in dire need of a proper mani-pedi, but they were taken care of. When she applied Quinn's, nay, _her_ lip gloss earlier using a hand mirror, she noticed that her lips were a bit dry, but not nearly as much as they should be considering the 24/7 intubation. And she saw that her eyebrows were still perfectly shaped. Her skin still felt soft and hydrated under her touch, and there were no bedsores in her body to be found. Also, her hair wasn't down to her ass; they had maintained the same length she always sported since high school. When she forced a nurse to take her to the bathroom that first day she had woken up – Santana Pierce-Lo… well, _Santana Lopez_ did _not_ do bed pans, she had growled – she noticed with surprise that the hair on her head wasn't the only one that had been groomed. From all those things Santana concluded that she had been under professional, attentive, good care at that hospital, and for that she was grateful.

Once again her room's door being opened brought her back from her own mind. A nurse she hadn't seen before made her way inside, pushing a wheelchair. She was in her early thirties.

"The _one_ time I take a couple of days off to look after my kid, you go and wake up on me, Santana," the curly haired brunette said enthusiastically, smiling brightly at the Latina.

"How are you feeling, woman?" she added, leaving the wheelchair behind and getting closer to the Latina's bed.

The plastic surgeon was taken aback by the woman's intimacy level as she addressed Santana.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Santana asked with reservation, furrowing her brows. The nurse really didn't seem familiar.

Taking in her favourite patient's confusion, the nurse replied with an easy laugh, "Not really, I guess. It's just that I've been your main nurse for so long that I feel we're like old friends," she shook her head. "Anyhow, _I'm_ the one who's sorry, uh… I'll just introduce myself. I'm Maggie. Ross. Your nurse," Maggie ceremoniously put it, outstretching her hand.

Santana shook on it, a bit amused by the whole thing. "Santana Pi… Lopez," the Latina amended; damn, it was taking her time to get used to it. "Santana Lopez," she said more firmly, "but you already know that," the doctor finished awkwardly.

"That I do," Maggie said, letting go of Santana's hand. "So, you're ready for a nice, proper bath?"

Santana considered the idea of having a complete stranger give her a bath or, at least, help her with it. Yeah, it didn't go down well with her at all. Unless, you know, that person was Bri… There her mind went again! _For fuck's sake…_

Sensing the Latina's discomfort, Maggie playfully said with a smirk, "Come on, Santana? Are you getting all shy on me now? Who do you think has been keeping you in such nice shape, huh?"

Santana couldn't help but blush. This nurse was clearly very cheeky, and didn't seem to pussyfoot around. However, she _did_ seem nice… _enough_. And she really _did_ a fine job taking care of her.

Seeing the look on her patient's face get softer, nurse Ross added, "Trust me, it's nothing I haven't seen before."

Santana looked directly into the woman's eyes with hers narrowed, and then after a beat the Latina said playfully in return, "Fine. But no funny business."

Maggie chuckled, going to get the wheelchair, and said, "Now _that's_ the spirit!"

She helped Santana transfer from bed to the wheelchair.

"Besides," Maggie added, undoing the wheelchair's safety breaks, "sadly for you, I'm happily married," she said smiling and showing Santana her wedding band. "And no one other than me and Danny can stand our _three_ boys together at once. Trust me on that."

Santana smiled, subconsciously stealing a glance at her own wedding band. She needed to take off that thing one of these days. _One of these days_, she thought.

* * *

><p>"Bring my chips?" Santana asked from bed.<p>

Maggie threw a bag at her. "You're welcome," she said pointedly.

Santana shot her an annoyed look while opening the bag.

"Brittany and Zoey are not coming today?" the curly-haired nurse asked, taking a seat on a chair by the Latina's bedside, and putting her feet up on the bed. That was usually their time to visit.

"Zo has a friend's birthday party to go today," Santana said matter-of-factly, popping a chip in her mouth. "I told Brittany she didn't have to come," she added nonchalantly.

"Uuu, sounds tense," the nurse said in a playful tone, looking to her side at the Latina. "Should I even ask?" she pressed in a more serious manner. By then she knew the lady doctor wasn't exactly a born sharer.

Santana just shook her head vehemently, and Maggie uttered a simple 'ook, then'.

"How are the boys?" Santana asked, eager to change the subject.

"Oh, you know, they're their usual little banes-of-my-existence selves," the nurse said jokingly, stealing a couple of chips from the Latina. "But what can we do, right? We love the little monsters. It's like we're the ultimate masochists."

Santana smiled and nodded. She didn't know how Maggie could cope with having three boys under the age of ten. Zoey already seemed like a handful to her, and the kid had been only visiting. However, the nurse was right; to Santana they were like a fungus that just grew, and grew, taking over our hearts.

"Don't tell me about masochists," Santana pleaded through a mouthful of chips. "It reminds me of Danes, and that pussy should have had me running by now."

"Come on, San! You've been pushing yourself too hard," Maggie reproached lightly. "And pushing Danes too, I must add!" she said, receiving a glare from the Latina. "It's only been a couple of months and you're already walking with just a cane. He says that's remarkable."

"He clearly has really low standards," Santana scoffed.

"By the way, why don't you ask for a discharge? You're already walking really well with the cane, and if I had a penny for every time I hear you saying you want to '_get the hell out of here'_…" Megan said, quoting the plastic surgeon.

"And I _so_ do! But I'll be damned if I get caught walking out of here and around town with a fucking cane!"

Maggie laughed, shaking her head with amusement. Santana Lopez was indeed a real character.

They heard a familiar, cheesy tune coming from the television that had been on the whole time.

"Oooh, it's starting," the nurse declared, turning her eyes up to the tv set, and adjusting her body on the chair to get more comfortable.

"Finally!" Santana stated impatiently, grabbing the remote control to turn up the sound.

"What did I miss yesterday?"

"Uh, the good twin kept refusing to sleep with the evil twin's husband…" Santana informed her, grabbing another chip from the bag and with her eyes still trained on the television, "…who, as always, got really pissed about it. I mean, come on, sister, give the poor man some sexy times!" she quipped with a grin, causing Maggie to chuckle.

"Oh, and she also rebuffed the advances of the husband of the sister," Santana added with narrowed eyes as she paused to think, "…of the evil twin's husband, you know, the weirdo."

"With the awful braids?" Maggie deadpanned, and the Latina just nodded.

"The annoying granny hit the booze hard…" Santana said, trying to get Maggie caught up and still watch the new episode. "Again!" she added with annoyance. "The good twin tried to talk the old lady out of getting shit-faced… and that was about it," she finished, eating another potato chip.

"So, basically the same stuff that happened _the day before_ yesterday?" Maggie asked absentmindedly.

Santana nodded again. "And the same stuff that happened _throughout_ last week," the Latina stated in a flat tone.

"Right… Remind me again why we watch this soap religiously?"

"Because it's _soo_ bad that it's _good_?" the plastic surgeon replied, looking sideways at Maggie, who was nodding her agreement.

_So much for knocking day-time television a couple of months ago_, Santana thought to herself.

Danes made his entrance at that precise moment.

"Ready for some sweating?" the Asian man asked Santana, smiling and rubbing his hands together. "Maggie," he shifted his look to the nurse, greeting her with a nod and the smile still in place, "good to see ya. How are you today?" the physiotherapist finished.

"Getting by, I guess," the nurse in pink scrubs answered simply, smiling back. "You?" she added in question, leaning further against the chair.

"Hmm, a little on edge. You know, that Santana can be quite a handful," the raven-haired man replied nonchalantly.

"Hello? I'm right here," Santana said after rolling her eyes.

"I know, sweetheart. You should see the things I say _behind_ your back," he quipped grinning. "Right, Maggie?" he added playfully.

"Don't call me sweetheart, sweetheart," the brunette doctor quickly interjected.

Maggie nodded and deadpanned, looking at the Latina, "_Awful_ things."

"Good. Now I don't have to feel guilty about the stuff _I_ say behind you back," Santana quipped, looking at Danes. "Right, Maggs?" she added in the same fashion as him seconds before.

Maggie nodded and deadpanned, looking at the Asian, "_Awful_ things."

The three smiled, and Danes asked Santana after a beat, "So… Ready?"

"More than you'll ever be," she replied with a smug smile on her face, standing up with the cane's help. "And just so you know, I plan on being out of here in a week, two the latest. With _no_ cane. So, you better _make_, or _let_ that happen," she added seriously.

"Oh, My!" Danes exclaimed while looking at the ceiling, foreseeing the amount of grief ahead of him.

"Tell me what happened later?" Santana asked, shifting her gaze from Danes to the television to Maggie.

"Will do," the curly-haired woman said, taking Santana's discarded bag of chips for herself. "Now go… kick some ass, or something," she finished grinning.

* * *

><p>True to her word – and able to push through any strained regime in order to leave that hospital – 8 days later Santana had successfully regained full strength in her legs, and was about to be discharged.<p>

Brittany and Zoey came to the hospital to give the Latina a lift home. The blonde and Santana talked near the window of her room, and the little girl played with the hospital's bed controls, making it go up and down, up and down while holding Sparkles.

Closing a drawer, with a bunch of sheets of paper neatly rolled up in the other hand, Santana said while stuffing them in a bag near her new ipod and books, "You know what? Let them keep everything else. I don't really want anything in here besides Zoey's drawings."

"What about all your pajamas?" Brittany replied with a crestfallen look in her eyes.

"Let them keep 'em," the brunette said offhandedly.

"But I bought you those."

"Yeah, I kinda figured the first time they dressed me in the one with all the ducks," the Latina replied, unable to contain a small smile.

The mention of said pajamas brought a smile to the blonde's previously sullen face, and she deadpanned, "My favourite."

And then Brittany looked at Santana expectantly. The brunette could see a small, familiar pout forming on the blonde's lips, and although she had been practicing saying 'no' when faced with one of Brittany's strongest guns against her, the results had been far from ideal. Santana still caved ultimately.

"Fine," the brunette said with a scowl. "I'll take all the fucking pajamas," she added.

"Language," Brittany scolded, Santana rolled her eyes, and both looked back at Zoey, who was too entertained playing with the bed to hear anything besides her own giggles.

"Here," the dancer said, handing the brunette a store bag. "I bought you an outfit. I figured you didn't have any real clothes to leave the hospital. It's nothing much, just some jeans, a sweater and a pair of flats," the blonde finished with a sweet smile.

Santana smiled back, taking the bag. She couldn't keep her stoic façade when the blue-eyed woman was being that sweet. Unfortunately for her give-Brittany-the-cold-shoulder resolve, that happened a lot.

"Thank you, I really didn't have anything," she said softly. "Where are all my old clothes, by the way? You guys probably donated everything by now, right?" the Latina added in question, not accusingly, or bitterly, just reaching the logical conclusion, all things considered.

"No, we didn't," Brittany answered quickly, but calmly. And then she added with a wistful tone, "At first, back in New York, I got a bit too obsessed with them. It wasn't a pretty sight," she chuckled nervously, and Santana winced a bit, "And then, after a while, I couldn't look at them without breaking down. So, when we started packing, mom was in charge of them. I think the boxes went to your parents' house when we got here. They should still be there in the garage, or the basement," she finished with welled up eyes.

Santana fought the urge to wrap Brittany in her arms, and never let her go. She settled for shooting the blonde a warm, empathetic look. As for the clothes, knowing her mother like she did, the boxes would definitely be properly stored in the cellar. Probably alphabetized and catalogued, if possible.

After a beat, Santana said, smiling and holding up the bag, "I'll go change into these." And she made her way to her room's private bathroom, winking at Zoey when she passed by the girl.

Danes opened the door of room 42, pushing a wheelchair in front of him, and was met with the surprising sight of Brittany and Zoey sitting on Santana's bed.

"Hey, you two," he greeted smiling, and both smiled back. "Where is the soon-to-be-released convict?" the Asian joked.

Just at that second the woman in question called from the bathroom, "Who arrived?"

"It's Danes," Brittany called back, before the man could answer for himself.

"She's changing," the blonde informed flatly while looking at Danes, who nodded his understanding.

"So, how is my favourite little assistant?" he asked Zoey with a wide smile.

"Good," the girl replied shortly, getting some hair out of her eyes.

"If only every patient had an awesome helper like you," Danes said.

"I'll say," Santana chimed in, surfacing from the bathroom in a pair of skinny jeans, striped black and white sweater, and red ballet flats. "You really helped me with those ball exercises. I couldn't have made it without you, bug," she added in praise, smiling widely at the kid.

Zoey swelled with pride. "That was my 'favrite'!" she exclaimed excitedly.

"It was my _favourite_, too," Santana replied, stressing the word her daughter had just mispronounced.

Approaching the bed, Santana added enthusiastically, "Hug jump!" And Zoey promptly stood in bed, letting Sparkles fall onto it, and hug jumped the Latina, both laughing loudly. The brunette was simply over the moon to actually be able to hold her daughter whilst standing on her own two strong legs.

Brittany watched the scene in adoration, and Danes stood there smiling.

"You look really pretty, mama," Zoey stated, pulling back a bit from the hug to face Santana.

"Aww, thank you, baby," Santana replied, touched by her daughter's compliment.

"Ready to roll?" Danes asked the brunette, pointing at the wheelchair with his head.

"I ain't leaving on _that_ thing," Santana scoffed, holding Zoey on her hip.

"You _know_ it's hospital policy."

"You _know_ that I really _don't_ care."

Zoey looked adoringly into Santana's eyes, "I can ride on your lap, mama," the blue-eyed girl stated sweetly, and Santana spotted 'the' trademark pout. The Latina knew then she was a goner.

Looking down at Brittany, who still sat on the bed, Santana asked with a crooked smile, "You totally taught her that, didn't you?"

Brittany just flashed her a coy smile.

"Fine… I'll sit on the blasted thing," Santana caved with a heavy sigh.

"We could have used you here more often, Zoey," Danes quipped, watching Santana sit on the wheelchair with her daughter taking her lap.

The brunette glared at him unimpressed before saying, "You better push, Danes. I won't risk getting my perfect soft hands all calloused."

The tall Asian man just shook his head dismissively and said, "Ready, then? Dr. Carson is waiting for us at the nurses' station so you can sign the discharge papers."

"More than ready!" the Latina proclaimed.

Brittany busied herself stuffing all of Santana's pajamas into the empty store bag she had brought with new clothes for the brunette.

"Ready too," Brittany said, finishing the task. "Here, you can't forget the pajamas," the blonde added, holding the stuffed bag.

"Of course not," Santana replied sarcastically.

"I'll carry it for you," the dancer said, also picking up the other bag, and going to grab Sparkles on the bed, handing Zoey the stuffed duck.

"Did he protect you, mama?" the blue-eyed girl asked Santana.

"With his life," the Latina replied seriously. And then she added softly, "Thank you again, cariño," and placed a kiss on top of her daughter's head.

"Ok, let's go," the raven-haired man announced, pushing the wheelchair into the corridor, with Brittany at his tow.

After a ride on the elevator, they reached their destination: the nurses' station. Dr. Carson was already there, talking to a guy in scrubs. Seeing the four of them approach, he sent the guy his way, and went to them.

"So, Miss Lopez, finally getting rid of us, huh?"

"Didn't come soon enough."

"Santana!" Brittany admonished.

Dr. Carson laughed, "It's fine, Miss… Pierce," the doctor chanced, continuing his speech after the blonde confirmed with a nod that was her name, "We've got used to Miss Lopez's…" the short man tried to find a word, one that would sound non-offensive, "…_candor_ by now."

"In fact, we'll miss it. By the way, Dr. Hannover wanted to be here, but he's stuck in a meeting with the board," the doctor added. "Here is the discharge document you need to sign," Dr. Carson concluded, handing it to the Latina along with a pen.

Santana shifted Zoey on her lap a bit and started signing it, but she stopped mid action. With an awkward look in her face she said, "I… I think I'll need another. I messed this one up."

"Are you experiencing some hand shaking, Miss Lopez?" Dr. Carson asked with concern, looking down at the brunette. Brittany and Danes looked worried too. "Maybe we should run –"

Santana was hoping to avoid this awkward situation, but the doctor clearly wouldn't let her off the hook so easily. So, she had to come completely clean. "No! It won't be necessary. I just, I haven't got used to signing my new name yet," she said dejectedly, wanting to dig a hole and crawl into it. She was really, truly pathetic.

Brittany stiffened immediately. Danes felt awkward. Zoey was oblivious. And Dr. Carson was still confused.

Sensing his confusion, Santana added rapidly, "I signed some of my old surname."

"_Oh_," the short doctor finally got it.

"Can I have another one now, please?"

"Sure, I'll just…" Dr. Carson said awkwardly, grabbing another document behind the nurses' station. "Here," he handed it to Santana, taking the spoiled one back.

Santana signed fast, managing to keep the 'Pierce' out of it this time, and handed the document to Dr. Michael Carson.

"Ok, well, I have a surgery now. So, Miss Lopez, remember about the regular CTs and if you get any strong head –"

"Yeah, yeah, I remember everything, doc," Santana cut him off.

"I guess that's all then. Be well, Santana," Dr. Carson said.

"You too, doctor," the Latina replied sincerely. "Thanks for everything," she added, and with that Dr. Carson left.

Maggie came jogging from behind a corner.

"Great," she exclaimed, short of breath, "I managed to catch you," she added, smiling.

"Barely," the Latina replied playfully.

"Here," Maggie said, holding out a cupcake with a thin candle stuck in it. "I was shooting for a cake, but I could only find this. Happy getting-out-of-here, San!"

"Wow, a whole cupcake? For me?" Santana quipped.

"Let me light it," Maggie stated, lighting the candle with a lighter.

"How nice, Maggie," Brittany said, smiling brightly at the nurse. Danes was smiling at her too.

"I think I'll need some help with that, kiddo," Santana told Zoey, who still sat on her lap and smiled widely at the brunette's request. "On three, ok?" Santana added, smiling and looking at the cupcake Maggie held in front of her. "One, two, three!" and they both blew on the candle.

Zoey clapped enthusiastically.

"Thanks, Maggs," Santana said genuinely, taking the cupcake.

"My pleasure. So, you got my address, right?" the raven, curly-haired nurse asked, and Santana nodded.

"And you got mine?" the Latina asked, and it was Maggie's turn to nod.

"I'll visit, make sure to do the same. You've already met Danny, and Christian. Now there are only two more little monsters to go," Maggie joked. "I've got to change an IV bag now; so, sorry to rush out," she added. "Great seeing you again, Zoey. And Brittany. Danes…" the nurse finished, shifting her eyes from one person to the other before kissing Santana's cheek goodbye, and rushing away.

"Ok, now that the goodbyes are over…" Santana said ceremoniously, and then looking back she added, "Danes, ready to give me that ride?"

Brittany looked confused.

"Sure, boss," the physiotherapist quipped.

"I thought _I_ was going to take you, San," the blonde said, still looking mighty confused.

"We never arranged anything, Brittany," Santana replied matter-of-factly. "Besides, I asked Danes ages ago. Well, I asked Maggie first, but she had a shift…" the brunette added. Another one of her resolves was keep-Brittany-at-arm's-length. It was painful enough as it was.

Brittany felt hurt that Santana had asked other people instead of her. And still only called her by her full name.

"Well, I just assumed…" the blonde said honestly, wearing her hurt look like a badge, Santana noticed. The blue-eyed woman had always been extremely transparent. The Latina used to love that. Now she could sense it would become a problem, since her first reaction at seeing the dancer hurt was always to do whatever she could to make it better. And at that moment, not only she was causing said hurting expression, her hands were also tied to make it better.

They stayed in awkward silence for a moment.

"So?" Danes had to awkwardly intervene.

Before Santana could say anything, Brittany stated, "Zoey was also really looking forward to take you."

Santana looked at her daughter sitting on her lap with an expectant look, and she gathered right then that her resolve was a lost cause. Brittany and she shared a kid; she would never be able to completely keep the blonde at arm's length. Not in the way she had firstly and radically planned in her mind. The thing was: she was never going to successfully move on if Brittany was always around. Reminding her of everything she once had, and no longer did. Bringing about memories that were once so sweet, and at that moment, considering where they stood, only left a bitter taste in her mouth. But it was too late. She didn't know exactly when it happened, probably when Brittany first got pregnant, but Zoey was her priority now. The little girl's needs came first. Even before her own. _Yeah, welcome to motherhood_, she thought.

With that in mind Santana said, "Thanks, Danes," she smiled, looking back at him. "But I'll be going with them," she added, causing the little girl to beam, and the blonde to flash a small smile.

She would have to have a little chat with the brunette later.

* * *

><p>Brittany was driving to Santana's parents' home. The latter sat on the passenger seat looking out through the window absentmindedly. Zoey played calmly with Sparkles, buckled up on her car seat at the back.<p>

Brittany couldn't keep her mind off of the latest events. Santana was clearly trying to push her away, and she couldn't deal with that idea. The Latina was her best friend. She had _always_ been her best friend. That had _never_ changed, and never _would_ change. The blonde had already been forced to spend a long time without her. She didn't want that to ever happen again.

Never being one to filter any thought to come to her lips, the blonde said, "You're trying to push me away." It wasn't a question.

Santana was brought back from her own thoughts, and she replied defensively, "No, I'm not." And then she looked back to see if Zoey was listening to their conversation, but she appeared to be too busy with her own conversation with Sparkles.

"Yes, you are –"

Santana was about to cut her off to deny it again.

"Don't even bother denying it, San. I know you."

They fell silent for a while.

"I wish you didn't," Brittany finally said really softly, stealing a quick glance at the brunette beside her.

Another short silence.

"I've missed you," she added, barely above a whisper.

It was Santana's turn to steal a glance at the blonde. _God, this will be hard_, she thought as she turned her gaze back to the window without saying anything.

Looking at those familiar Lima streets that passed by outside, she thought about how much she hated that town. Thought about the terrible feelings of inadequacy, insecurity, self-loathing and doubt she associated it with. She hasn't been that person in a long time. She didn't miss her at all; however, she could already feel those feelings trying to regain their territory. _Hello darkness, my old friend._

Santana looked again to her side at the blonde who have had a huge role in helping her overcome said feelings, and it pained her to conclude she didn't have her anymore. But then she looked back at her daughter, who offered her a sweet smile in return, and she could feel the strength making its way back towards her. With full force.

* * *

><p>Moments later the sun was almost setting and Brittany pulled into Santana's parents' circular driveway. It was a big, all-white house with a beautiful, vast green front yard. They grabbed the bags, unbuckled an eager to explore Zoey, and made it inside through the red arched double entry doors.<p>

Zoey stood briefly in the high-ceiling foyer, wondering where she should explore firstly. The little girl looked at the entrance on her right and spotted some sort of dining room, looked at the one on her left and saw a spacious living room, and looked in front of her – past the curved marble staircase – and spotted two further possibilities, even 'though she couldn't tell what lay behind them. She chose to dash towards the living room, it looked like there were more things to see.

"Baby, don't run around," Brittany called out worriedly. "And don't touch anything," the blonde added to the child who had already disappeared into the room.

"It's fine, let her be," Santana said softly, placing the bags on a round foyer table in the center of the room.

The Latina took in her surroundings, the familiar place she once called home. Nothing seemed to have changed considerably, not since the last time she had stepped foot there years ago when she and Brittany came to Lima for Christmas with their parents. It wasn't very warm, nor did it have that homey feel to it. It wasn't a place like _the Pierces_, with big comfy couches, where you could slouch down and put your feet on the coffee table to watch tv. It was the type of place where you sat up straight with your hands on your lap, where the focal point of the living room was a fireplace with a piece of art hanging above it, and where you could only find the big flat screen tv hidden inside a cabinet.

However, it was home for Santana. And even 'though for the brunette's taste the décor was a bit too stuffy, and too French oriented, one thing that Nina Lopez couldn't be accused of was lack of flawless, exquisite taste. The regal-looking, elder Latina had always been the type of woman who could, for instance, take a vase and a bunch of seemingly simple fresh flowers and turn them into the most refined flower arrangement you'd ever see. Their home was impeccable.

Seeing the peculiar look on Santana's face, Brittany asked softly, "Lots of memories?" and she tried and succeeded in capturing those brown eyes.

Santana smiled back, looking straight into blue eyes. "Some," she replied shortly.

"Is it hard? Being here, I mean," the dancer barely whispered, closing the gap between them a bit.

It took a while for Santana to ponder about it.

"Not as hard as I first thought," the brunette said sincerely. "I never thought I'd say this, but I guess it was a good thing having to stay in the hospital for a couple of months," the Latina added slowly, turning to face the other woman.

They stood in silence for a few seconds. Santana's eyes caught the top of the imposing staircase, and a smile took over her face.

"Remember when we were tweens?" the Latina began softly, "And we would sit on the top of those stairs for the longest of times, highly amused, just hearing the voices and the songs that came from downstairs as my parents threw one of those many fundraising parties for one of my mom's charities, or for the hospital?" she added, smiling wider.

Brittany looked at her and nodded, also smiling and feeling the warmth of nostalgia. "And when we were teens," the blonde replied, "we would sneak into the kitchen, snag one of the champagne bottles from under the caterer's nose, bring it up to your room and drink the whole thing," she added with a chuckle.

After a beat she looked sideways at Santana and concluded with a smirk, "And then we made out until our bodies were too tired to function."

Santana smirked back as those memories rushed back to her. Suddenly, their shoulders grazed one another's and it all seemed like too much tension. Of the sexual kind. So, Santana quickly moved.

"Should we, uh, go look for Zoey?" the Latina asked rapidly, running a hand through her soft brown hair.

"Sure," the dancer replied as quickly as humanly possible.

As they entered the living room Zoey found them first. She had a blue vintage crystal egg in her hands and a bewildered grin on her face.

"Look what I found! A duck egg," Zoey exclaimed enthusiastically.

"Zoey Pierce-Lopez, give me that," Brittany reproached, taking the thing from her daughter. "You could have broken it, baby," she added more sweetly after the initial alarm had passed.

"I just wanted to know if there was a baby duck in there," the little girl explained, causing both grown women to smile.

"No, munchkin," Santana replied, squatting down to her daughter's level. "That egg is just for decoration. Your Abuelo Martin brought it back from Russia for your Abuela Nina. There's no little duck in there."

Zoey's face fell momentarily, but she had more stuff to be enthused about. "Come see, mommy!" she soon said, dragging the blonde by the hand towards the other end of the room. Santana followed, taking the egg the blonde was passing to her.

"Mama's got a pool!" the blue-eyed girl added in frenzy, pointing at it through the white French doors that led to the back of the house. "Can I swim?" she asked, looking up from Brittany to Santana in utter expectance.

"Anytime you want," Santana offered with a wide grin.

"Now?" Zoey tried her luck.

"Not now, sweetie, we gotta go and let mama rest," Brittany replied, picking up her daughter. "But I promise to bring you another day, and you can swim as much as you want, ok?" the blonde added, and the kid seemed to have accepted it.

"We'll go now and let you get settled, and rest," Brittany told Santana, shifting her gaze to the brunette woman. Santana swore she could see sadness in those blue eyes.

The Latina nodded wistfully, and the three of them started to make their way back. The ladies reached Brittany's Focus, and Santana watched as the dancer carefully buckled up their daughter in her car seat at the back.

"See you later, baby," Santana said softly, peeking her head through the open back window, while Brittany took the seat behind the wheel.

"I'll miss you, mama," Zoey said, looking at Santana with sad blue eyes. The Latina's heart broke at that. Brittany's as well, as she looked back at the scene.

"I'll miss you more," the brunette said sweetly, leaning forward further to drop a light kiss on the kid's cheek. "But we'll see each other again in a blink of an eye," she added, trying hard to sound extra cheery and smile.

"San," Brittany called from the front, and Santana switched to the front open window.

She added, "I almost forgot…" Then the blonde woman smiled, got a wrapped present from the glove compartment and handed it to the brunette. "Open it," she commanded, seeing that Santana was taking too long.

Santana unwrapped the present, discovering a silver frame. Inside there was a photo of her mom holding a baby Zoey while her dad had one arm around her mom's shoulder, and his free hand held the infant's tiny one. Both adults looked adoringly at the baby.

"It's from her first birthday, the one I talked to you about. Can you see it too?" Brittany asked softly, looking at Santana who studied the picture.

The Latina tore her welled up eyes from the photo to look at the dancer.

"I can," she whispered, smiling softly. "Thank you, Britt," Santana added, letting the nickname pass through her lips. She could always reinstate her first resolve later.

Brittany felt jubilant to hear, once again, her nickname being spoken in that voice she loved so much. So, she smiled her best megawatt smile at Santana and said, "You're welcome, San." After a short stare on both ends, the blonde gathered up the strength to add, "See you later."

"Yeah, see you later," Santana replied, clutching the frame and waving at Zoey, who waved back.

It took another surge of strength for Brittany to finally be able to drive away from the love of her life with tears welling up in her eyes, and it took all that Santana had not to run after them, not to run after her family that was simply driving away from her. It didn't seem fair to the Latina, it didn't seem fair at all.

* * *

><p>Santana did some exploring on the house of her own. And, at that moment, she thought that maybe it was true what they said about endings of explorations. That maybe we were to arrive where we started, and really know the place for the first time. Because – after exploring the kitchen, some guest rooms, the back yard, the living room, open some drawers and trace some objects with her caramel fingers – she certainly <em>knew<em> that house, and _everything_ that said knowledge entailed. She wasn't ready to enter her parents' room yet, but she knew that sooner or later she would be. So, there she stood. In front of the closed door of her old room. Gathering courage to enter it. Santana was well aware of the amount of memories that room could trigger.

Eventually, she turned the golden doorknob, and was met with her old room in all its glory. Her parents never touched nor changed anything. But long gone were the black walls, replaced by a rich purple-ish blue around senior year of high school. She and Brittany were already officially together. Figures… Also gone was her reggae poster that hung above her bed, substituted by a black and white New York landscape. By that same time, she… _they_ couldn't wait any longer to finally move. Go to college. Do their thing. Be independent.

Santana walked around the room slowly, inspecting some objects, leaning in to see some photos, stopping to touch her armchair's familiar fabric… And then she laid on top of her bed, on its left side, not by conscious choice, just force of habit since Brittany always lay on the right one. Her big, comfortable bed. _That thing had seen some action_, she thought with a smirk. Looking up at the white ceiling, the Latina caught a glimpse of the NY City landscape, and before she knew a memory came to mind.

_Santana lay on bed in the middle of the night, almost drifting off to sleep when she heard a small knock on her… window? The Latina sat straight up in alarm, turned on her lamp by the nightstand, and looked at the suspected source of the noise: the window. She shouldn't be that surprised to see the top of a blonde, familiar head._

_Getting up in a Cheerios sweat pants and white tank top, she made her way to the window with a scowl on her face, and opened it up._

"_I told you not to come to my window! You'll end up breaking your neck, Britt!" Santana scolded the blonde, while pulling her up._

"_You climb mine all the time," the blue-eyed teen protested, landing safely on the brunette's hardwood floor._

"_Yeah, well, yours is way less high. And has a convenient lattice below," Santana countered, helping the blonde to her feet._

"_How did you even do it?" the brunette asked, turning around to close the window._

"_Tree, roof, ledge, your window," Brittany replied like it was the most obvious, and easiest thing._

"_You're crazy," Santana said after closing the window, and then after a beat, "B, did you walk here?" she added in concern, after looking outside through the closed window and not spotting any mean of transportation._

"_Yeah," Brittany said matter-of-factly, blue eyes finally meeting brown ones after Santana turned to face her._

"_Why would you do that? It's fucking freezing outside," the Latina proclaimed, taking in her girlfriend's appearance for the first time. She wore the same thing as the brunette did, plus a Cheerios hoodie, which didn't amount to much against Ohio winter._

"_I needed to talk to you," the blonde said simply, while Santana felt her cold face with warm hands._

"_Couldn't you call?" the Latina asked, resting each of her hands on the blue-eyed teen's shoulders. "Get in there," she commanded, not waiting for an answer while pointing to her bed. "Jesus, your nose and cheeks are all red, and you feel as cold as a popsicle!" Santana finished, disappearing into her closet while Brittany did what she was told._

"_I needed to talk to you in person, Santana," Brittany said ceremoniously, taking off her hoodie and climbing into bed._

_Santana came out of the closet with an aubergine fleece blanket folded on her hands and a worried look on her face. Need to talk, in person, usage of her full name… Oh, oh! The Latina thought._

"_In person?" she repeated Brittany's words while moving towards the bed. "Something wrong?" the Latina added with a slight hint of panic in her tone of voice, looking into blue eyes as she took a seat on her side of the bed: the left one._

"_I'm mad at you," Brittany stated firmly from under the fluffy comforter, holding the brunette's stare._

"_Why? What did I do?" Santana asked indignantly, with the blanket sitting on her lap; forgotten. She rummaged through her mind trying to remember something she had done wrong, but she had been in her best behavior ever since they started dating in the beginning of the year._

"_You just ditched me there on my driveway, and got in the bus for New York. By yourself. And you laughed at me. Laughed, Santana!" Brittany said, mad and appalled._

"_I didn't do any of those things, Britt."_

"_Yes, you did. Lord Tubbington was serving us tea at Breadstix and you were being really rude to him, then we were at my house's driveway and you had your bags with you, and you said it was time for New York. I asked you to wait while I grabbed my bags, then I went into my house and they were just by the couch, so I grabbed both of them and ran outside. When I got there you were already inside a bus with New York written all over it in giant letters, and you put your head outside the window and laughed at me. Like, mean-laughed at me. I tried to run after the bus, but it was too fast. So, I just sat on my bag in the middle of the street and cried," the blonde babbled without even catching a breath._

_Santana shook her head, letting the smallest of smiles take over her features, then she said, "So, I'm assuming you had a dream."_

"_Don't smile. It was very real," Brittany replied with a pout._

_Letting go of her previous worry, the Latina remembered the fleece blanket on her lap. "Here," she said, pulling down the comforter from around her girlfriend's sitting form and handing her the object. "Wrap yourself in it," the brunette told her, and Brittany did so before laying back down on the pillow._

_Santana crawled under the comforter and pulled it on top of her, and a fleece-snuggled Brittany, while she lay down on her own pillow._

_They laid there side by side for a moment without saying anything, both looking at the white ceiling._

_Santana turned on her side, and said softly, "Look at me, B." After the blonde turned around and they came face to face, she added, "We're both going to New York in a few weeks after Christmas. Both of our plane tickets are already bought. You know I would never leave you behind, don't you?"_

_After a beat, the blonde nodded slowly, looking into her girlfriend's eyes. From time to time she would feel a rush of love for Santana so strong that she feared her heart would literally explode in her chest. That was one of those times._

"_I'm sorry," the blue-eyed teen offered in a whisper._

_Santana just took the blonde's hand in hers under the covers._

"_I guess I just felt scared."_

"_Scared of what?"_

"_I don't know… Maybe I'm scared that New York will change us. And I love us," Brittany let out, smiling at the end._

"_I love us, too," Santana replied, smiling as well. "You don't have to be worried, babe. Nothing will ever change this," she added, bringing their joined hands from her body to Brittany's to signalize what she meant. Santana didn't know exactly when she had gotten so certain, but one thing she couldn't be more sure about was definitely them: she and Brittany together._

"_But you're going to college, and you'll meet new people, smart people… unlike me," Brittany barely whispered._

"_Hey! That's my girlfriend you're talking about!" Santana joked, hitting her playfully, and then assuming a more serious tone she added softly, "Just because you don't think like most people it doesn't mean you're not smart, Britts. Just unique."_

"_Still, everybody is going to college: you, Quinn, Rachel… except me, and –"_

_Santana cut her off and said firmly, "Unlike the rest of us, you know exactly what you want to do and you're going after it. People don't need pointless college mambo-jumbo to succeed in dancing. Not someone who's naturally talented like you."_

_Brittany seemed to be considering what the Latina had told her. "You know what you want to do," the blonde stated, picking apart her girlfriend's words._

"_You know what I mean," Santana countered._

"_Yeah, I do," Brittany conceded, flashing the Latina a sweet smile._

_After a silent beat, Santana stated, "If anyone should be worried, that person should be me."_

"_What do you mean?" Brittany asked, looking deep into brown eyes._

_Santana didn't respond, she just looked straight back and that was all it took for Brittany to read her answer._

"_You seriously have nothing to worry about, San," Brittany said softly. "I love you…" she added, touching the tip of the brunette's nose with her index finger, and pulling it back quickly, "…with all my heart."_

"_And I can only love you with all my heart," Santana stated honestly. "There's a difference."_

"_Well, I know I never loved, and never will love anyone as much as I love you," Brittany said sincerely, cupping her girlfriend's cheek with adoration. The brunette leaned deeper into her touch._

_Another comfortable silence fell upon them._

"_Kiss me," the blonde said softly._

_Santana smirked before saying, "You're feeling deman –"_

_Brittany cut her off, "Just… kiss me."_

_Seeing the raw vulnerability in those blue eyes, Santana quickly leaned closer, pressing their bodies together as she snuck beneath the fleece blanket with Brittany. And then she took her girlfriend's soft lips into hers, effortlessly… and she felt the blonde's tongue entering her mouth with a refreshing feel such as cold lemonade in the hot summer. Brittany's hand tangled in her soft brown hair, while her own held gently to the blonde's neck as their lips carried on with the familiar dance both were so used to by then. Backs arched, moans were uttered, toes got curled… Both pulled apart for air, lips swollen and red from the kissing._

_Brittany leaned upward, towards Santana, who still lay on top of her, and whispered huskily in the Latina's ear, "Make love to me."_

_Santana looked into blue eyes, darkened with passion, and smirked back when the blonde smirked at her._

Santana shook her head as a way to shake off the memory. She looked sideways at the clock on her nightstand; it was late. And then she brought her hand to her forehead. Bringing the hand back, she spotted it again: her wedding band. The Latina took it off of her finger, still lying down on her bed. She read the inscription inside: _Brittany Pierce-Lopez_, followed by their wedding date. She felt angry. She felt mad. She felt shortchanged.

Sitting up, Santana opened her nightstand's drawer and dumped the item inside, closing the drawer with force and leaving her old bedroom.

…

After a couple of minutes Santana went back inside her room, opened up the drawer again and retrieved the discarded item, placing it back on her finger. _Not yet, I guess_, she thought.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! Let me hear your thoughts...<strong>

**Next chapter, picture the biggest fan you can imagine. Now picture the biggest pile of shit imaginable. Now picture the latter hitting the former. *Now* you've got an idea of what will happen! It's showdown time, and I ain't talking about Santana Vs. Jenna (that would be too easy, and too soon)! Santana 'got the hell out of that hospital', now things can get more... interesting ;)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Glee _nor its original characters (if I did it would probably be called _The Brittany and Santana Show_, and all the other characters would only be there to help advance their plot).

****A/N: ****Ok, you guys are really putting me on the spot with your reviews. I simply cannot choose just one anymore! So, without further ado, this chapter is dedicated to **YoungLove08**, **ShyTyzulaFan** and **Atthis**.

Well, where to start? How could I not dedicate this to someone who just came out to their mom? So, YoungLove, I know this comes from a boring straight girl who can't possible fully know how hard this is for you, but it also comes from someone who can at least empathize with it. So, well done! Kudos for having the courage, and I hope everything works out amazingly for you.  
><span>ShyTyzulaFan<span>? Yes, I'm a sucker for long, detailed reviews. And Boy! Let me get cracking to your many questions and musings. First of all, thanks for the compliment. Yes, my ego has been properly stroked. That always means extra points, by the way :) Anyways, Santana's quips? Glad you enjoy them. They are not inspired by any person in particular, but I find it very easy to write her since I have a strong sarcastic/snarky vein myself. Fortunately or unfortunately. As for the hospital accuracy thing, no, I don't work at one, nor am/was a patient at one. Someone really close to me is a doctor, 'though, and _loves_ to babble about the job. So, I guess that helps. The many years of watching ER's golden Clooney era don't hurt either, I guess :D Regarding where I take this from I can assure you there's no plagiarism involved (tv, film or music). And your guess was dead-on, it totally gets pulled up from my perfect ass. I'm glad you're all enjoying, regardless of any gross implications ) The "came out of the closet" line was totally planned and planted. It really was meant to be a pun. The memory was indeed the most important part of that chapter, and like most things in this fic, it will pan out. Spoiler alert! It'll pan out in this very chapter. And finally, sorry for the logging on/off inconvenience. I truly am a terrible tease :P  
>Last, but not least: <span>Atthis<span>. After almost get you to go blind; drive a wedge between you, and your poor girlfriend; and worst of all, make you wake up *that* early; you totally deserve this nod :D Hope your eyes are better!

**Thanks again for all the reviews and PMs (that I only found a few days ago; so, if I ignored them in the past I apologize)! Hope you enjoy the proverbial shit hitting the fan :)**

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><p><strong>Mischances, Stances and Stolen Glances<br>**_||Chapter Five||_

Santana was woken up by sounds coming from somewhere in the house. Lying there she looked around and remembered she had fallen asleep in the living room French sofa. Not the most comfortable place to sleep. And she was still dressed in the clothes Brittany had bought her, even with the flats on. Turned out that she couldn't fall asleep in her old bedroom, her parents' she couldn't enter yet, and she had even tried a couple of the guest bedrooms with no luck. Sleep she could not catch. That was when she decided on the sofa, and after a few hours she managed to doze off.

Sitting straight up alarmed by the noise, Santana looked around to find something she could defend herself with. Nothing seemed adequate 'though. The Latina got up and started tiptoeing towards the sounds. After she stepped out of the living room, they appeared to be coming from the kitchen. Passing the dining room she spotted an old magazine there, so she took it and rolled it up, holding it a little above her head in an attack position. Santana took one big breath and entered the kitchen, being met instantly by the sight of Brittany standing behind the kitchen island. The blonde saw her immediately.

"Jesus, Brittany! What are you doing here? I thought you were a burglar or something, you almost gave me a heart attack," Santana said, lowering her defense 'instrument'.

"And what exactly was your plan? Paper-cut me to death?" Brittany asked eyeing the magazine and smiling broadly as she busied herself with breakfast.

Santana narrowed her eyes and gave the blonde a fake tight-lipped smile, throwing the magazine on top of the kitchen table.

"What are you doing here, again?" the brunette asked dryly.

"Isn't it obvious? Breakfast," the blonde countered matter-of-factly. "I knew you wouldn't have any groceries, so I brought you some – already in the fridge, by the way – and started on breakfast. You looked like you needed the sleep back on the sofa – we'll also get to that later, by the way – so I decided not to wake you," she added rapidly.

Santana had almost forgotten how much of a morning person the dancer was; _just_ her opposite.

"Of course I don't have groceries. I arrived here yesterday, Brittany," the Latina spat out, getting exponentially more annoyed. The blonde, on the other hand, was once again bothered by the usage of her full name. "And I don't need you to bring me anything or do anything for me. I can take care of myself," she added proudly.

Brittany decided to ignore her lash out. The Latina had never been exactly a morning person, unlike herself. "Coffee?" the blonde asked, filling up a cup that sat on the island.

"How did you even get in here?" Santana asked a bit calmer.

"Please," Brittany scoffed with a dry chuckle, "it's _me_. I know at least, like…" she raised an eyebrow, mentally counting, "…eleven ways to sneak into your house. Well, take three out considering my current height and weight, which still leaves me…" the blonde looked up, trying hard to do the math.

Getting impatient Santana piped in, "Eight, Brittany."

"Yes, still leaves me eight ways of sneaking in," Brittany stated smugly. "I used the key beneath the third bush from left to right, 'though. I got a little confused, as usual, but I still found it."

"I wish you didn't. Sneak in anymore, I mean," Santana said bitterly and dejectedly.

Seeing that what was going on was something more than just morning crabbiness, Brittany softly asked, coming out from behind the counter, but still keeping a small distance between them, "What's wrong, San?"

"_What's wrong?_" Santana repeated the question with sarcasm. "Nada. _Nothing_ is wrong, Brittany."

There it was again, her full name. And spoken very coldly. Brittany decided to let it go, and said, "Come on, San… I know you're lying. How are you feeling?"

The Latina sardonically laughed. "_How am I feeling?_" she repeated just as before, and after a longer beat she added, "I'm feeling _awesome_, Brittany."

That time Brittany could no longer ignore it. "_Another_ lie. And stop saying my name like that, _Santana_," Brittany scolded, intentionally using the brunette's full name.

"Like what?" Santana asked indignantly, locking the blonde in a stare contest.

"Like it's a curse word, or something," Brittany spat out while taking a step closer to the Latina, leaving the full use of her name out of the equation.

"Oh, I'm sorry if my intonation is offensive to you, _Brittany_," Santana said defiantly.

Silence fell upon them, both breathing visibly heavier.

After a while Brittany finally said barely above a whisper, and in the sweetest tone she could manage at the time, "You're my best friend, San. And I'm yours. We've always been best friends, that haven't changed," she searched for Santana's gaze, which was everywhere but on the blonde. "We can tell each other _everything_," she finished with emphasis on the last word.

Santana felt worn down. "Alright," she said in defeat, taking a step towards Brittany, "you wanna know how I feel? I'll tell you. I feel like crap, _Brittany_. Is that what you wanted to hear? I feel awful, and miserable, and embarrassed… Embarrassed 'cause I could barely catch a couple of hours of sleep last night because my room is full of memories of us, and my parents' I couldn't even bring myself to get in, and all the guest bedrooms didn't…" the Latina faltered, "well, they didn't have _you_ in bed. And I'm _so_ pathetic that I can't fall asleep without your hand intertwined in mine, without the feel of your arm around my waist, or the smell of your hair on the pillow... That's why you saw me on the sofa. Is that enough, _Brittany_?"

Brittany stood there taken aback by the outburst, listening to Santana's hurt and feeling worst than she had ever felt in her entire life. One thing was to imagine how bad her best friend, how bad _the love of her life_ was feeling; another was to actually hear it spilling from the Latina's mouth.

Santana was on a roll, she didn't even wait for the blonde's response, "And I _hate_ myself! I'm _pissed off_ at myself for being so weak, and for knowing that I will never bring myself to get over you. I just can't. Should I go on, _Brittany_? Because I'm also mad, _so_ mad at _you_! I'm angry that you moved on, that you married someone else, that you fell in love with her... I know it may be irrational and unfair, all things considered, but I can't help the way I feel. So, should I go on? 'Cause I could, I _totally_ could," the brunette added, stopping to catch her breath, all flustered and worked up.

Another silent moment enwrapped them. Brittany took the last step remaining between both women, and like muscle memory her hand found its way towards Santana's neck, to that well-known place where neck and shoulder meet. Santana sighed and closed her eyes, she wanted to swat that hand away, but she didn't find the strength to do it. She leaned into the blonde's touch instead, who closed her own eyes in return. It all felt so natural. Seconds later their foreheads were touching… both needed the other to steady themselves.

Brittany whispered, "I'm sorry, San. I'm so sorry. It's hard for me, too."

Before they knew their heads were acting on their own volition, bringing their lips so close together that they were almost grazing one another's. The electricity was undeniable and inescapable. However, Brittany pulled back just in time to prevent the kiss from happening.

"I'm sorry. We can't," the blonde barely found the strength to say as she pulled back abruptly, opening her eyes. And then she strode rapidly towards the kitchen door.

Santana opened her eyes and stood there stunned by all that had just transpired. Did they just almost…? Did Brittany just rush out…? _Hell, no!_ The Latina thought, rushing out to stop the blonde.

Santana caught up with Brittany by the red double entry doors, the blonde had just stepped outside.

"Brittany, wait!" the brunette called out, a bit louder than expected.

Despite better judgment, Brittany came to a halt. They stood face to face outside by the double doors.

"Where do you think you're going?" Santana added with disbelief, her voice laced with some underlying anger.

"To work. It's for the best, San," Brittany replied calmly, looking at her shoes.

"No," Santana uttered, shaking her head, "you don't get to open Pandora's box and just walk away. You wanted to have it, so let's have it," she finished, running on fumes but still at full energy.

"I didn't touch any box. I don't even know any Pandoras," Brittany replied confused, furrowing her brows.

Santana shook her head exasperatedly, and explained dismissively, "I meant that you don't get to bring shit up and then just up and leave."

Brittany sensed the Latina was trying to pick a fight, "We should –"

Santana cut her off abruptly and bluntly, "Do you even still love me, Brittany?" The brunette had lost her patience to pussyfoot around. It actually sounded more desperate than she had intended. _Damn it_, she thought.

It took a little while for Santana's question to sink in with the blonde. She kept blinking more than any normal person usually blinks by the second.

"Of course I do, San," Brittany answered softly, really looking into brown eyes for the first time after her kitchen escape. "I've always loved you… and I _always_ will," she added, narrowing her eyes in disbelief that the brunette even doubted it in the first place.

"But?" Santana offered, crossing her arms defensively.

"No buts," Brittany quickly put it, shaking her head.

"Then be with me," the brunette almost pleaded without missing a beat. She hated how the dancer always managed to make her push her pride down.

"I… I can't. You know I can't," the blue-eyed woman whispered sadly with a shattered heart, trying to touch the brunette's upper arm, but failing since Santana took a quick step back.

The Latina stood there, shaking her head in her own disbelief, and then she let a sarcastic, dry chuckle leave her lips.

"Total déjà vu feeling right now," Santana scorned, holding the blonde's stare for effect.

"De… what?" Brittany asked in confusion.

"Nevermind…" the brunette dismissed it. After a pause to gain courage, she added directly, "Do you love her?"

Brittany seemed to be considering the question. "I do," the blonde stated simply. Santana felt the sting and was about to reply, but the dancer _had_ to add something first, "It may not be like it was with _us_…" she mused, trying to find the right words to express what was in her mind, which she knew wasn't as easy for her as it was for others, "…but, let's face it, with _no one_ it will ever feel the same as when I was with you."

Santana didn't know what it felt worst to know: that Brittany loved the other woman too; or that Brittany, apparently, loved her more and still refused to get back together. Frankly, the dancer's stance made her _angry _and _confused_. In love with two people… that seemed to be the blonde's calling in life. On the other hand, the Latina still could _only_ love the blue-eyed woman. It made her _pissed_.

"Well, we may be experiencing a walk back in time here, Brittany," she said coldly, "but I refuse to stand here and beg you to love me back. Not after all we've been through, after all the years we've spent together," the brunette finished bitterly.

"I never asked you to, San. And I already do," Brittany said honestly, and sadly.

A moment of silence fell upon them.

Santana finally broke it by stating firmly, "I just don't understand why we can't –"

But Brittany cut her off, fully knowing where the Latina intended to go, "We can't. It wouldn't be right, Santana."

_There_ it was again, another blast from the past to push Santana's buttons further than they should ever be pushed. She was at her wit's end, and her patience had long left her body.

"I don't know why I'm so surprised, really," Santana began strangely calm, and yet frustrated. "You couldn't ditch some loser _boyfriend _back in high school. I should have known you wouldn't do it to your _wife_," she added, looking directly into blue eyes. And then, without even thinking, she sarcastically and viciously delivered the final blow, "Oh, wait, unless she was lying defenseless in a hospital bed. I guess that's where you draw the line."

With each word that left her mouth, Santana could see Brittany's eyes getting wider and wider. And then it all went down in a matter of seconds, the blonde felt her right hand unconsciously rising and next thing she knew she had slapped Santana square in the face. The Latina brought her hand up immediately to touch the burning left cheek with a gobsmacked expression on her face; the brunette felt the astonishment more than she felt the sting.

"You have _no_ idea what I've been through," Brittany stated dejectedly while staring the brunette in the eye. Her blue eyes showed more hurt than Santana had ever seen before. Then Brittany turned around on her heels, got into her car and speeded off of the brunette's driveway. Leaving behind a still stunned Santana, cupping her left cheek.

Driving her car aimlessly to as far as she could get from the Lopez's household, Brittany felt her eyes welling up and tears starting to fall down her cheeks. She couldn't believe she had just slapped Santana. It wasn't her plan, but she had gotten so… _offended_ by what the Latina had said that she just couldn't help it. It was a reflex. How could Santana say something like that to her? And, more importantly, did the brunette actually really believed in what she had spat out?

Brittany hoped not, and as their previous interaction replayed in her head – like most arguments generally do after their end – she couldn't help but wince at her own parting words, '_You have no idea what I've been through._' Without warning she remembered one of those days.

_She looked down from the roof of their 35 storey building, arms resting folded on the ledge as she stood behind the wall that ended just at her chest's level. Cars rushed by, people walked up and down the street, random sounds came from far-off unknown destinations… Brittany didn't know why, nor how, but life just kept going normally around her. Even when her whole world was crashing down._

_The wind was blowing quite strongly, but it had been a while since the blonde could really feel anything, whether it was cold, or warm, or tiredness, or hunger… Everything felt the same. There was no real difference._

_Brittany was interrupted by a voice coming from behind her. She didn't turn around._

"_Britt, what are you doing here?" Quinn asked with concern after taking in her friend's proximity to the edge. "It's freezing here, you'll catch a nasty cold," she added, pulling the scarf closer to her neck._

"_How did you find me here?" Brittany asked flatly, still not turning around._

"_When I asked Frank back in the elevator to take me to your floor he said he had taken you to roof half an hour ago."_

"_Oh."_

_Getting more restless by the second, the smaller blonde said, "Why don't we go down to your place, B? Come on, I'll make us some hot tea." Brittany was still facing away, looking down._

"_San can't stand tea," Brittany deadpanned with a wistful smile on her lips, "I try all the time to get her to tone down on the caffeine a bit, try some tea instead but she didn't... doesn't budge," the blonde corrected her verb tense._

_Quinn didn't say anything; frankly, she wasn't sure on what to say. So, she just stayed there rooted to the ground where she stood. The smaller blonde was too scared to come closer to her friend and wind up startling her._

"_She just loves her coffee," the blue-eyed woman added. After a long beat, she continued absentmindedly, "The doctors came to her room to talk to me again today…"_

"…_They basically told me once more that they want me to pull the plugs, that it's been four months," the words came from her mouth, but even 'though her body was there, Brittany _– _the real Brittany _– _seemed to be far, far away. Quinn listened attentively. "But I can't. I could never…" the dancer trailed off._

"_It's fine. You don't have to do anything you don't want to," Quinn offered sympathetically._

_A moment of serene silence settled down._

_Looking back for the first time, but still not moving from near the wall, Brittany said sadly, "I can't do this, Quinn. Not without her. I can't do this alone," the dancer's eyes were welling up._

_Quinn took in her friend's face and it nearly broke her heart. Her blue eyes – which were always so sparkly, vibrant, full of innocence and joy – were now so empty, so sad and pale. She never thought she'd see the day when the words 'Brittany' and 'sad' would go in the same sentence with such intensity as this._

"_I know you can't, honey," Quinn crooned softly. "But you're not alone. You have all of us… and you have that baby. That very special baby inside of you," she added in a highly emotional state._

"_Why do you think I'm still here?" the taller blonde replied honestly and gloomily, turning her head back to the street's pavement many feet down. "You know, it would be so easy… just to fall. Sometimes I can't help but think of that. Think about the release…"_

"_Come on, don't talk nonsense," Quinn sternly reproached her friend. "Besides, if I let anything happen to you, Santana will probably wake up just to kill me," she added playfully, trying desperately to lighten the mood._

_Brittany couldn't bring herself to smile, but she turned back with an appreciative look on her face, nonetheless._

"_This wasn't supposed to happen. Why did this have to happen to us?" Brittany asked dejectedly, finally coming closer to Quinn. "I am a good person. Santana is a good person. Bad things shouldn't happen to good people, Q," the blue-eyed dancer finished weakly._

_The day Brittany had found out that bad things indeed happened to good people – the day the doctors first informed her that Santana wouldn't wake up – was the day in which her eyes lost its spark, its innocence. All things considered, she was fortunate to have discovered that bitter truth so late in life. Most people weren't that lucky. Not that it made any difference, or served as any consolation to the blonde whatsoever._

"_You're right, Britt. They shouldn't," Quinn conceded whole-heartedly, wrapping her old friend into a tight hug. "Life isn't fair sometimes," the hazel-eyed woman added, feeling her friend nod against her shoulder. _

_Brittany started to audibly cry, and the smaller blonde felt her own tears escape her eyes. "Let it all out, honey. It's okay," Quinn finished, rubbing circles on the dancer's back._

_After a few seconds, Brittany pulled back, drying her eyes with alabaster fingers as she stated evenly, "I can't. If I do… I'll never stop."_

_Quinn helped her friend dry her tears, understanding what she meant. And then she slung one arm over Brittany's shoulders as they headed towards the elevator, and said smiling, "Come on, let me make you that tea."_

Brittany's knuckles had turned whiter against the strangled steering wheel, and she brought one hand up to dry some tears that had started to fall. How her life had become so sidetracked? That's what she wondered.

* * *

><p>Santana's morning had been… <em>unique<em>. And not in a good way. She barely slept through the night, her neck and body ached all over from attempting to sleep on the sofa, and – more importantly – the brunette had a Homeric argument with Brittany. The blonde was one of the calmest, most patient and peaceful people the Latina had ever met. To a point that it even bothered Santana at times, and still she had managed to make the dancer slap her right across the face. _It was truly a gift_, she thought to herself. Perfecting the art of pissing people off was an art that took years for her to master. But her concerns and points were valid, right? She thought. At least to some extent, right? _Right?_ She mused. Santana _hated_ to fight with Brittany. With most people she thrived on the stuff, but not with the blue-eyed blonde.

Then, she spent the rest of the morning and afternoon rehashing the argument in her head as she wallowed in self-pity. However, she wasn't keen on sitting around when she had so much going in her head; so, she went to the cellar to go through her clothes and stuff. It made her feel a tiny bit better to be re-acquainted with her vast shoe collection, and extensive number of clothing items and accessories. Again, she was extremely vain, and once upon a time – before Zoey – they were her only babies.

The afternoon was almost making space for the evening at that moment, and Santana stood in front of her parents' double headstone at Lima's cemetery, in a pair of her own skinny jeans, Jackie O's, black knee length boots, top and coat; carrying nothing but a white orchid plant. Nina's favourite flower.

Santana pushed her sunglasses up to her head, and placed the orchid on the center front of their headstone. Then, she took a deep, slow breath, placing her hand on top of the cold black granite.

Shaking her head and looking around to confirm no one was there, the brunette said, "I always used to think how ridiculous it was in films when people would just start talking to a headstone. But now… _now_ I think I get it."

She looked down at the grass, and after another long pause she continued, stuffing her hands on the coat's pockets, "I'm sorry I didn't come earlier. As you must have seen I was a bit, uh…" she searched for a word, "…tied up. Yeah, I know it's naïve, but I like to believe you are both watching over me. It comforts me somehow, and right now I can use some comfort. I'm sure you know that, too."

The Latina laughed and looked around again, "Come to think of it, this _is_ ridiculous. We never talked much when you were alive, well, not about anything substantial that is; so, this seems a bit ironic…" Changing the subject, she cleared her throat and added, "I brought a flower. An orchid. Your favourite, mom…"

"What am I doing?" Santana asked herself, looking up at the sky. Then she turned her gaze back at those engraved names: _Martin J. Lopez_ and _Nina C. Lopez_, and said, "What I really wanted to say is… I guess that's not where I should start." Small pause. "You know, Brittany once said to me that love is like a language, and if you're not taught… you're not gonna be able to _speak_ it," the brunette smiled tenderly at the memory. "You see, she knew, she _knows_ me better than anyone, and I know you guys embraced her, embraced us eventually. And I'm thankful for that. I know how hard it must have been. But I saw, I always could see how neither of you thought she was too… sharp. That I somehow deserved someone better. Maybe you even thought of her as a bit… vapid. I could tell from the exchange of looks, but I guess not many people are really able to see how wise she truly is," Santana felt tears welling up.

She shook her head again, before adding, "It doesn't matter… you guys treated her kindly and with respect. That's all that matters to me. I'm missing my point here, what I wanted to say is that neither one of you taught me that language. And it's fine 'cause I know your parents didn't teach you as well, and despite everything I felt loved. In your own way you both made me feel very much loved. I want you to know that, and I want you to know that Brittany – God knows how – managed to teach me eventually. It was harder to learn, as all things are when you're no longer a child, but I've learned. And now that I can speak it – openly speak it – I can pass it on to Zoey. So, the chain has been broken."

Placing her hand again on top of the headstone, Santana said softly with tears running down her cheeks, "With that, I want to say to you… I love you. Los quiero mucho, mamá y papá. I wish I had said it out loud while you were still here to hear it. I'm sorry."

Santana turned around, put her shades back on and strode to her high-school-days' car: a bright red convertible Mustang. A gift from her dad when she first got her learner's permit. Getting in the car the Latina dried her tears under the sunglasses, took another deep breath and went back to her parents' place. She still was having trouble thinking about it as her home. In her head _'home'_ still was the duplex back in New York. In earnest, _'home'_ was wherever she was with Brittany. And where she was driving to? The blonde was definitely not there.

* * *

><p>Santana finished her 45 minute shower – she couldn't have stand a quiet bath, her mind was already in overdrive as it was, the silence of it would only feed her raging thoughts – and headed downstairs for some tv time in order to successfully get her sleepy. It was night already, and she was resolute on sleeping in her own bed that night. She was being ridiculous, after all. She would have to learn how to overcome her Brittany withdrawal sooner or later, and she was set on sooner.<p>

Passing by the phone in the living room, she saw that the message light was blinking. The Latina clicked on the button, and the thing said: '_You have 4 new messages_'. Santana pressed to hear them.

"_Santana, are you there?" _it was definitely Quinn's voice._ "Hello? I guess you're not. Call me when you get this, ok?"_

_Beep._

"_Santana, it's me again. Are you there?" _A short pause_. "I guess not yet. Call me, asap."_

_Beep._

"_Santana? Ok, I know you're probably there by now. Come on, pick up. Don't be like this… I need to talk to you. Pick up, pick up, pick up, if I annoy you enough will you pick up the go –" _she got caught off.

_Beep._

"_Santana, are you serious? You're not gonna pick up the phone? Jesus, you're so stubborn!" _Pause_. "Just call me, ok? When you come to your senses…"_

'_You have no new messages.'_

Santana shook her head at her friend's antics. She was curious 'though… What could have been so important? If it was something _important_ like health issues she would have said something, besides her tone wasn't _that_ serious. The brunette picked up the cordless phone and went to plop down on the sofa.

The Latina dialed the familiar number and waited as it rang. After a number of rings it went to voicemail. Santana rolled her eyes hearing their old unchanged message – some cutesy combination of Quinn and Rachel's voices.

All of a sudden a blessed voice picked up, interrupting the puke-inducing message, "Hello," Quinn said through the speaker.

"Hey, it's me," Santana simply put it.

"Were you dodging my calls?" Quinn replied with a hint of suspicion, recognizing the voice on the other end instantly.

"No, I was out and then took a shower. Not that I owe you any explanations, _mom_," Santana quipped, lying on the sofa. "By the way, _four_ messages in a matter of hours, Fabray? I mean, stalker much?" the brunette added.

"Well, you should buy a new cell phone. I wouldn't have left so many if I could've reached you."

"So, what was so important?"

"What have you done, Lopez?" Quinn asked in a stern, reproaching voice.

"I already told you, gone out and –"

Quinn cut her off abruptly, "I meant; what have you done _to Brittany_?"

Santana, unbelievably quick, switched to her defensive tone, "What? I haven't done anything to her."

"Oh, _please_," the blonde scoffed.

"_What?_" the brunette rhetorically asked indignantly. "She sure went running fast to mom and mom, huh? What did she tell you?" she asked curiously. "Besides, why everyone always assume it's _my_ fault? You didn't even hear my side yet," the Latina added before giving the blonde time to respond.

"Because it generally _is_ your fault, San," Quinn replied. "And she didn't come to me with anything. _I_ called her to tell her something and you know Britt, she's very transparent, I could sense there was something seriously wrong. After some pressing she told me you guys had an argument. Again, you know Britt, she can't hide anything from anyone."

"What did you want to talk to her about?" Santana asked suspiciously, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing important," Quinn said dismissively.

The Latina took that as evidence, and asked suspiciously again, "Was it about me? Were you two discussing me or –"

"Self-centered much?" the blonde repeated an alternate version of the brunette's previous rhetorical question. "It wasn't about you, it was just that I had a meeting with Marcus Mann and I wanted to tell her about it."

"Why is that name familiar?"

"You know, he is that bigwig behind the dance company B was in."

"The old and bald one?" Santana chanced, trying to see if she was picturing the right guy. Quinn hummed her confirmation. "What did you want to tell her?"

"Just random gossip... You wouldn't be interested," the blonde deadpanned.

"You got that one right," the Latina conceded, inspecting her nails.

"So, don't distract me, what did you do?" the hazel-eyed woman pressed demandingly. "She sounded really down," she added.

"We just had an argument," Santana answered curtly. She didn't want to get into details. The last thing she wanted was to repeat her words; the whole thing had been bad enough at the time. There was no reason for an encore.

They fell in silence as Quinn expected more info.

Santana sighed, and added reluctantly, "I… I guess I just lost my temper and, you know, I said some stuff I shouldn't have. You know how my words can get when I'm angry."

Quinn _did_ know. Santana knew quite well how to hurt with mere words when she wanted to.

"Well, you should go to her," Quinn said softly. She understood the situation they were in. It was very hard on both of them. If anyone knew that it was the petite blonde, she was stuck in the middle. Hearing about feelings, emotional confessions, and broken hearts on both separate ends. "Talk to Britt. Say you're sorry. I'm sure she'll understand," she added barely above a whisper.

"Already had that planned out, Q," Santana replied softly as well. "First thing tomorrow I'll go see her," the brunette added.

"Good," the blonde replied, pleased. "So, apart from that, how are you, San?" the blonde added, changing the subject. She knew her friend wasn't big on sharing feelings. They had done it enough for the day.

The two old friends chatted idly for another 30 minutes. After hanging up, Santana watched some tv, and a while later decided it was time for bed. She would, at least, _try_ to catch some sleep in her old bedroom. Tomorrow… Tomorrow she would go and try to patch things up with the blue-eyed dancer. Yeah, tomorrow was another day. Another _hard_ day, the Latina thought.

* * *

><p>Next day as Santana drove her Mustang to Brittany's house, and approached her target, she dreaded one thing: knocking on the blonde's door. The thing was the Latina feared the inevitable, but no less unwelcomed, first meet with the dancer's new wife. Even <em>thinking<em> the words 'new wife' left a bitter taste in her mouth. However, the brunette was kindly spared that time, since she saw the familiar blonde mane parading down the street a few feet down the block in the beginning of the afternoon. Yes, she had planned to go to Brittany first thing in the morning, but she lost her nerve then, and pushed it to the afternoon. Everything was better when it _wasn't _morning.

Approaching the blonde in her vehicle, Santana honked her horn, successfully catching Brittany's attention and making her stop on the sidewalk. The blue-eyed woman couldn't help but left the smallest of smiles creep in at the sight of the car. God, they had spent so many moments in there, back in the day. That back seat had witnessed some intense make-out sessions, and those were the most innocent things that happened there. Just by looking at the Mustang she could even begin to feel Santana's hands roaming through her calves and thighs, her tongue… _Ok, stop right there_, the dancer commanded her mind.

The brunette killed the engine and while Brittany was stuck in her daydreaming, Santana got out of the car and went to her.

"Hi," Santana offered meekly, stuffing the keys in her jacket's pocket.

"Hey," Brittany replied softly, looking from Santana to the floor and back.

**TBC.**

* * *

><p><strong>First of all, sorry for the little cliffhanger, folks! Second, tell me what you think about this chapter. Review it :)<strong>

**Third, I'll already add this: please, chillax. This chapter may seem like two steps back after a step forward, but it truly is just the opposite. Let's just say that things needed to be out in the air for the real healing process to begin. So, bear that in mind and wait for next chapter. I already started and it's shaping up to be my favourite thus far ;)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Glee _nor its original characters (if I did it would probably be called _The Brittany and Santana Show_, and all the other characters would only be there to help advance their plot).

**A/N: **Here I come bearing an early update for you guys! And an epically long one at that. You should know that I really burned the midnight oil, and the 1 AM, and the 2 AM, and the _3 AM_oil to make this happen. Work's been crazy, and judges are more assholes than their usual asshole selves lately. So, I'll be taking my 'thank-yous' in the reviews or PMs, your choice really :D

***This chapter will be dedicated to lots of people because I don't have the heart (nor the time) to eliminate anyone else from my first original long-ass list for this chapter:  
><strong>GleeksWin,<strong> 'cause, dude, don't go on scaring little kids on my account! ;)  
><strong>Mahokame,<strong> 'cause you went through the trouble of reviewing this even 'though you consider reviewing a bit of a pain, and frankly I do to, that's why I appreciate it this much. And also, be nice to Britt. She didn't move on because things got hard and she decided to throw 'in sickness and in health' to the wind. She just really believed there was no hope to get her wife back. Oh, and thanks for the kind words. Glad you're enjoying the ride :)  
><strong>Skygaze, <strong>who went through _all_ this trouble to review the story. Your words are far too kind for my own good, or my own ego; you choose. And much love to New Zealand! It's ridiculous how far these fics reach. Oh, and the off character remark of yours? Totally get it. One of my biggest fic peeves as well :)  
><strong>From-me-to-you-ale,<strong> another one who went through the huge trouble of reviewing it. Seriously, I'm take all kinds of reviewing virginities here *lol* And I always admired a cooky/crazy spirit. Ultimately, aren't we all a bit nuts? :D  
><strong>Back2Black,<strong> sorry to break your heart. Here's my attempt to soften the blow a bit. Yeah, this situation is one of the suckiest that anyone could possibly fathom. That's why I _had_to write it! Thanks for the nice words :D

*****Heads up:** Another Glee character is popping up in this chapter. I won't ruin the surprise but I just wanted to say again that I don't watch _Glee _(just Brittany/Santana), so, I apologize for any OCness. I know OC characters suck and I promise to try my best not to let that happen.

**Enjoy, folks! This is for sure my favourite chapter thus far. The several nuances of Brittany and Santana's whole situation, the subtle delicateness of it all, the general silent hopelessness that feels so palpable... everything about this chapter grabbed me. Plus, it's mostly B/S/Z, you can't go wrong with that. So, I hope you dig it, too! I'll shut up now :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Mischances, Stances and Stolen Glances<br>**_||Chapter Six||_

_Approaching the blonde in her vehicle, Santana honked her horn, successfully catching Brittany's attention and making her stop on the sidewalk. The blue-eyed woman couldn't help but left the smallest of smiles creep in at the sight of the car. God, they had spent so many moments in there, back in the day. That back seat had witnessed some intense make-out sessions, and those were the most innocent things that happened there. Just by looking at the Mustang she could even begin to feel Santana's hands roaming through her calves and thighs, her tongue… Ok, stop right there, the dancer commanded her mind. _

_The brunette killed the engine and while Brittany was stuck in her daydreaming, Santana got out of the car and went to her._

_..._

"Hi," Santana offered meekly, stuffing the keys in her jacket's pocket.

"Hey," Brittany replied softly, looking from Santana to the floor and back.

They stayed in silence for a while, and after a moment they said in unison, "I'm sorry."

Both women smiled, looking at anything but each other as another silent moment took over them.

"Let me go first," Santana pleaded evenly, saying sorry wasn't exactly one of her strong suits. She needed to get out the things she had rehearsed most part of the night to say before she lost track of them all. Yes, she had yet again trouble sleeping; she clocked an hour or two more than the night before, but still not a good night of sleep.

Taking in for the first time that they were actually standing in the middle of the sidewalk, Santana sidetracked her apologetic speech by asking, "Were you going somewhere?"

"Just picking up Zoey," Brittany replied matter-of-factly.

Looking at her wrist watch the Latina asked with furrowed brows, "Isn't a bit early?"

"I had an errand to run first."

"Anything urgent?"

"Absolutely not," the blonde replied a bit too eagerly.

Santana asked, "So, is it ok if we take a walk around the block while we talk?" Brittany nodded, and started walking. Santana accompanied her. "As I was saying, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I said those things," she added sincerely, looking sideways at the dancer.

"And I'm sorry I slapped you, I really didn't mean to. My hand just…" Brittany said, trying to understand her own action.

"You've got one fierce right hook," Santana joked with a smile, trying to lighten the mood a bit. "Well, right palm, actually."

"I'm so, sorry," Brittany pleaded, feeling really ashamed of her action.

"It's fine, I deserved it."

"No, nothing justifies what I did."

"What I said _did_ justify it."

Gathering up the courage, the blonde dancer asked softly, locking her stare on brown eyes, "Did you really believe that, San? That I _ditched_ you just because you were in the hospital?"

"No, I honestly didn't," Santana said extra apologetically, stuffing her hands in the jacket's pockets while they walked slowly. "Those words… they came from a place of anger, Britt," Brittany's heart skipped a beat at the mention of the nickname, "…not truth. You can be certain of that. I don't want to be angry with you anymore. It's too draining and consuming… besides, I _hate_ being angry with you," the Latina finished in a bittersweet tone.

Brittany offered her a sweet smile, and Santana willingly matched it, "I'm glad to know," the blonde whispered.

Santana cleared her throat, "I also wanted you to know that I heard what you said… and I got it," she began firmly. "I understand now that four years is a long time, and you had every right to –"

"You _still _don't get, do you?" Brittany asked softly, shaking her head and coming to a halt while staring at the brunette. Santana, who continued the walk, stopped after seeing the blonde had done so. She backed up a bit to stand alongside her. Brown eyes fully meeting blue ones as they faced each other in silence.

"I would have waited a lifetime, Santana… I would have waited _100 years_ if I knew I could have spent another _second_ with you," Brittany stated with emotion pouring from her voice, the intensity and honesty behind her blue eyes took Santana's breath away a bit. It reminded her so much of the old times. _Why everything had to be so messed up like this?_ The brunette briefly pondered.

"But I _didn't_ know. They told me you wouldn't wake up; everyone said you wouldn't come back to me, that's why –"

"It's fine, Britt. _Now_," Santana said, pointedly looking into the blonde's eyes and placing her hand reassuringly on the dancer's upper arm, "…_now_ I get it. Completely. It's alright."

"I have to be totally honest, 'though," the Latina added, pulling her hand back. Brittany instantly missed the contact, and it pained her to know so. "I still don't understand why we can't… you know," the brunette shifted her gaze away from blue eyes, there was no need to stick the finger further into the open wound by repeating herself endlessly, "now that I'm back…"

Brittany was about to say something. Probably share her reasons, but Santana wasn't interested. So, she didn't even let the blonde begin.

"Please, you don't have to explain yourself, really," Santana rushed to silence Brittany's impending words, shaking her head for emphasis as they resumed their slow walk. "Frankly, I don't think I'll _ever_ completely understand, even 'though I respect your choice. You've had four years to learn how to deal with this, I still feel like we're in 2007. _But,_ I'll try my hardest to understand. I promise. For Zoey's sakes. The _last_ thing I want is to bring conflict, and tension, and tumult and any other shit into her perfect little world," the brunette finished with conviction.

Brittany was in awe. She knew Santana would be a great mother, but she never thought she would rise up to the task like this. Hearing about her protectiveness of their daughter and her well being – which could never surprise the blonde, since she was on the receiving end of it since they met as kids – and her decision to be an adult about the whole thing for their daughter's sakes, despite the fact that the Latina was a control-freak when it came to her emotions and desires to let them rampage, and despite of them being put in one of the crappiest situations that could ever plague two soulmates... All those things only made the blonde… love the brunette more. If possible.

Smiling, Brittany nodded beamingly. The dancer had her reservations and corrections she wished to make regarding Santana's speech, but she let them be. There was no need to ruin things.

Santana caught her completely off-guard when she added, "That is why I'm moving back to New York."

Brittany came to another halt. A very abrupt one. This time she grabbed Santana's wrist, making the Latina stop walking abruptly as well.

"What?" the blonde almost shrieked, furrowing her brows vigorously.

"I'm moving back to –" Santana plainly started to repeat but was interrupted.

"That much I got," Brittany cut the brunette off. "But…" she tried to add something but she felt utterly speechless.

"I don't belong here. In Lima. _Especially_ now," the Latina offered wistfully, gauging the blonde's state.

"Of course you do," the blue-eyed dancer protested vehemently, letting go of Santana's wrist after realizing she had been holding it this whole time.

"I don't. I just don't fit here," Santana countered matter-of-factly, looking down at her shoes.

Brittany shook her head energetically, and began to ramble erratically, "But, uh, what about… what about everyone who cares about you here? Huh? What about Zoey, and my parents, and Ally? What about Maggie? And… Richard, and Danes?" After a small pause, the blonde finished in a pleading tone, capturing Santana's gaze practically by force, "What about _me_, San?"

"You're my best friend," the blonde deadpanned almost as a statement direct to herself whilst her gaze wandered. Lost. "I just got you back. I don't want to lose you all over again."

"You're my best friend, too, and you'll never lose me. I'll be just a bit farther away," Santana tried to soothe the blonde. "And weren't you listening to me before? I'm doing this _because_ of Zoey. I can't… I don't think I can stay here hanging on the sidelines just… watching you and…" she trailed off awkwardly. "I know myself, B… that would only bring out the worst in me, and I don't want that for our daughter. Besides, I'll call her every day; we can Skype and even write letters to each other. I'll fly in most weekends to visit, and I'm sure we can work something out so she can stay with me for a while in New York during vacations. We can alternate holidays… I'm sure we'll make it work."

"It doesn't have to be –" Brittany began to say, but once again was cut off by the Latina.

"Please, Britt… I've made my decision. I accepted and respected yours. Now I hope you can do the same for me," Santana let out in one big breath.

How could the dancer argue with that? Instead she said sadly, "Ok, San… I'll try." But deep down inside Brittany knew it wouldn't be that easy.

Santana raised her hand to tuck her escaping bangs behind her ear, and that was when Brittany noticed that the Latina was no longer wearing her wedding band. The blue-eyed woman had noticed that Santana still kept the ring on her finger since she woke up from the coma. She found it sweet. But now the brunette wasn't wearing it anymore, and Brittany was sure that she had seen the golden band yesterday when they fought. Meaning, Santana had taken the ring off in between their meetings, after the fight and before coming to make up.

That knowledge caused Brittany's heart to contract in the weirdest of ways. She was taken by this weird desperation, and the dancer felt like she was _really_ losing the Latina for good. The thought alone was too much to take. She felt petrified all of the sudden.

Santana started to resume their walk, but was stopped brusquely by Brittany's hand grabbing her wrist again. "Wait!" the blonde cried a bit too desperately.

The Latina waited, but no words left the dancer's mouth. So, feeling confused she asked, "What?"

To Brittany's agony she discovered that she couldn't say anything. What _could_ she say? Their situation was still the same. It hasn't miraculously changed in the last couple of minutes. She had no hold whatsoever over Santana, and – or rather because – she was still a married woman.

So, the blonde shook her head dismissively, reluctantly letting go of Santana's wrist with a plastered fake smile and said wistfully, "Nothing… Nevermind."

They walked in silence a bit more to reach Santana's car, when they arrived the brunette asked, "Can I tag along? To pick up Zoey? I can drive you first to your errand too, it's still early."

"Why not?" Brittany replied, if the Latina was leaving she'd like to spend as much time with her as possible before that happened.

Both women proceeded to enter the Mustang, take their seats and fasten their seatbelts.

"Where are we going?" the Latina asked.

"The bank," the blonde replied absentmindedly.

In no time they were driving down the streets of Lima in a comfortable silence. Brittany took the opportunity to do a once over inside the car. So many memories…

_Brittany watched the street lamps' lights that passed by outside the car as Santana tapped the steering wheel absentmindedly to the rhythm of some tune that played on her car's stereo. It was a nice evening._

_Coming out of her thoughts the blonde said in her Cheerios uniform, "Coach is really riding us lately. More than usual. It's already dark out here." Both girls had just left practice._

"_Yeah, well, it will be summer soon. So, we'll be free of her for a while," Santana replied flatly._

_Comfortable silence took over again._

_Brittany broke it again by saying nonchalantly, "I'm feeling a bit chilly. Can I put the top back on, San?" The blonde could barely hide the grin that took over her lips._

_Santana looked sideways with a raised eyebrow to inspect her friend's face, and then the brunette scoffed, "Chilly? Yeah, like I was born yesterday. You just love to push that button and watch the top, you know, do its thing."_

_Brittany kept looking at Santana with that puppy-dog look that she knew the Latina could never resist. She even threw in a pout for good measure._

_Shaking her head, Santana conceded slyly, "Fine, go ahead, B." She couldn't help but grin as well as Brittany pushed the button and watched the top cover them with a pair of gleeful blue eyes._

"_You're such a weirdo sometimes," Santana said smiling, with endearment laced in her voice._

_The blonde just flashed the brunette her tongue, breaking into a smile after._

_A few seconds later they were pulling into Brittany's driveway._

"_Signed, sealed, delivered…" Santana announced playfully, killing the engine. "I'll pop the trunk so you can get your bag."_

"_So, what are you up to tonight?" Brittany asked, unbuckling her seatbelt so she could turn and face her friend properly._

"_I have the whole house to myself, so I'm still weighting my options," the Latina replied pensively, unbuckling her own seatbelt to face the blonde._

"_Your parents are out? Again?" the blue-eyed girl asked softly, and the brunette just nodded before looking down in a subtle way. "I hate to think of you all alone there, San," Brittany added, placing a warm hand on Santana's bare thigh. Those Cheerios skirts were mighty short._

"_I'll be fine," Santana replied dismissively, enjoying the contact of her friend's warm hand on her cold thigh._

"_Stay with me tonight," Brittany said huskily, leaning so close that the brunette could feel her warm breath against her face._

_Santana leaned forward as well, rendering the space between them inexistent. Their soft lips met and before they knew both girls were making out on the back seat of the car. Hands roaming from calves, to thighs, to breasts, to hair…_

_Brittany detached her mouth from Santana's and went on to nibble the brunette's ear, causing a soft moan. Santana took the opportunity to suck on the blonde's pulse point, and then she brought her lips up to Brittany's ear and whispered, "Si tu supieras cuánto yo…" she trailed off, resuming the neck kissing. There was so much Santana wanted to say to Brittany… but the brunette never seemed to be ready to let it all out. Feelings were never her thing._

"_What did you say?" Brittany asked curiously through a smile, lacing her fingers through a messy dark ponytail as Santana kissed her neck. The blonde loved, and at the same time hated, when her friend whispered Spanish sweet nothings in her ear. She loved to hear the sweetness in the brunette's tone, but she hated not knowing what it meant and to have Santana refuse to translate them. Maybe they weren't 'nothings', she thought or hoped._

_Santana looked up, directly into blue eyes and smirked in response. Brittany held her gaze for a while, shook her head slightly annoyed and planted a hard kiss on those full lips as 'punishment'. Taking the opportunity to push the hem of the Latina's Cheerios top up, and let her hand explore the flat and toned abdomen underneath it._

_After some more sweet lady kisses, Brittany remembered something while Santana sucked on her earlobe, and said, "Oh, I forgot that Artie was coming over to watch a movie." That sentence was all it took for the brunette to snap back and sit straight up. "You can still stay over. I'll call him and reschedule," she added offhandedly._

_Santana sat there stoically, straightening her messy ponytail while Brittany still lay on her back, mourning the loss of contact._

"_Why are you all the way over there and I'm over here?" the blue-eyed teen whined, confused by Santana's sudden change of demeanor._

_Ignoring Brittany's last question Santana said in a huff, "I don't think I should stay."_

"_Why not?" Brittany replied still lying down, resolute on not to stop their make-out session._

"_Well, you've got a date with Creepy on Wheels," the Latina spat, unable to hold back on the sneer, "and I forgot Sam owns me a booty call. Since I'm home alone this is the perfect opportunity," she added, telling a lie to save face._

_Brittany sat up as well. She didn't know why the brunette was acting so weird, and she also had no idea why the thought of Santana with her boyfriend bothered her so –_

"Earth to Brittany," Santana said playfully, bringing the dancer out of her daze. "What's got you all deep in thought over there?" the brunette added, looking sideways at the blonde.

"Nothing, just thinking I guess," Brittany replied, adjusting her purse on her lap and thinking how love triangles, or squares, or whatever shape with more than two sides, never did work well. Everyone wound up losing somehow.

Santana didn't press on it, and they fell back into comfortable silence.

After a while the dancer broke it off by stating softly, "You'll have to tell her." A small pause. "Zoey."

The Latina didn't even need the last clarification to know who Brittany was talking about. Just to think about that conversation brought a lump to the brunette's throat. God knows where she would find the strength to break the news to her daughter.

"I know," Santana replied morosely, clutching the steering wheel ten times harder.

Right then she felt the weight of Brittany's gaze on her. It made her uneasy to be under the blonde's scrutiny. So, Santana looked sideways and she could see that those blue eyes were trained on her hand, and all of the sudden it all clicked. Brittany tried to avert her gaze, but she had been caught already.

"It was time," the doctor stated bitter-sweetly, catching briefly the blonde's eyes before returning her gaze to the road. "It was past time," she added, shifting to strangle the wheel instead of just clutching it.

"It's ok, you don't have to –" Brittany began to state that the brunette didn't have to explain anything, but was cut mid-sentence.

"I don't _have_ to, but I _want_ to," Santana interjected with conviction, glancing sideways at the dancer.

Brittany nodded, and offered a pale smile, which the Latina matched.

"Here we are," Santana said, parking almost in front of the bank.

"I won't take long. Do you wanna come inside with me?"

"Nah, I'll just wait here."

"But you hate waiting," Brittany offered through an easy smile.

She _did_ hate waiting. The blonde knew her too well. "Yeah, well, I'll manage... For you," the brown-eyed woman said flirtatiously with a smirk, and regretted the words right after they left her lips. It hadn't been planned. Things like that came naturally to her when the blue-eyed dancer was involved. See, she _needed_ to move. _Way_ away from Brittany to avoid _these_ types of situation. The brunette didn't know how to contain herself.

Brittany couldn't help but feel the blush rising up to her cheeks as she smiled, opened up the car's door and went to the bank.

* * *

><p>Santana and Brittany entered the school, everything was very colourful and lively, and the blonde guided them to Zoey's classroom. Miss Miller was standing by the blue door conducting the kids' pick-up by their parents.<p>

"Mrs. Pierce, hi," the incredibly young-looking teacher said in greeting.

"Hi, Miss Miller," Brittany replied cheerfully as she and Santana stood by the door. "This is Santana Lopez, Zoey's other mother," she added with something resembling to pride in her voice.

"Oh, nice to meet you, Mrs. Lopez," the light brown-haired young woman offered, smiling and outstretching her hand to the Latina.

"Actually is _Miss_ Lopez," Santana clarified, shaking on the teacher's hand with a charming smile on her face. "Mrs. Lopez was my mother. And nice to meet you, too," she finished politely. She usually wasn't this congenial to new people, but the last thing she needed was to piss off the woman who cared for her daughter many hours a day. She had seen those cases on the news in which caregivers mistreated kids.

If Brittany didn't know Santana any better she would assume she was flirting with Zoey's teacher. But, come on, Miss Miller was, like, a child; the dancer thought. She couldn't help but let her mind wander 'though to a time when Santana would finally meet someone new – 'cause, let's face it, it was _Santana_ she was thinking about, and _Santana Lopez_ was too hot to stay single for long – but that thought was too daunting and too hurtful to be entertained beforetime. So, she just swatted it away.

The teacher called out Zoey, who was entertained with some of her little classmates, and the girl came running when she spotted her two mommies.

"Mama, you came too!" the blue-eyed kid stated whilst being picked up by Santana.

"You bet I did!"

"Mommy!" Zoey greeted, leaning forward on the brunette's hold to hug Brittany while Miss Miller watched the scene in front of her with a smile on her face.

"Hi, baby!"

"Come on, I want to show you something, mama," Zoey said enthusiastically. Santana put her down with an uttered 'ok' and was dragged through the classroom with an amused Brittany behind her.

"These are our class' pets," she said loudly due to excitement while pointing to two fishes in a small fish tank. "They are bettas, and the blue one's name is Peter Pan, and the red is Wendy," Zoey explained, putting her index finger against the tank's glass, "you know, like in the story," the girl added, looking up at Santana and Brittany.

"I think I have a vague idea of who they are," Santana joked lightheartedly.

"I have the movie, mama, we can watch it together," Zoey replied smiling, buying the Latina's joke.

"She knows who they are, honey. Not long ago your mama used to have a big Peter Pan complex," Brittany joked smiling and looking from Zoey to Santana, who mildly scowled at her.

"What is a complex?" Zoey asked curiously, looking from the brunette to the dancer.

"Nothing you should concern yourself with, sweetie," Santana replied quickly, shifting her gaze to briefly glare at the blonde, who looked quite amused with herself. "And I would love to watch that movie with you," she added with a smile after shifting her gaze back to her daughter, who seemed pleased to hear that.

"We get to take the fishes home at weekends, too," Zoey told Santana. "This weekend is John's turn, after him is Russ. And I'm always after Russ," the kid added with a smile.

"Sounds awesome," the doctor said smiling, mustering as much excitement as possible to please her daughter.

"Come and see my hook now," Zoey quickly changed the subject, tugging again on Santana's hand.

"Your hook?" Santana asked with confusion.

"Yeah, here, where I hang my bag every day," the brunette girl informed proudly as the three stood in front of the hook. "Mine is red, and see, it has my name written here," she pointed to a little plaque above it and began reading it, "Zoey Pierce-Lopez. That's me," she finished with a grin, looking back at her mommies to gauge their reaction.

"Wow, you're reading already, Z?" Santana asked enthusiastically, and with pride laced in her tone.

"She is getting there, right sweetie?" Brittany responded proudly, and Zoey nodded profusely. "She's great with little books, and she's an expert when it comes to her name," the blue-eyed woman added with a chuckle.

"I'm so proud of you," the Latina said, caressing the top of the girl's head. "And what is that guy's name? Or is it a girl?" she added, pointing to the plush dog-shaped backpack that hung on Zoey's hook.

"Sparkles!" Zoey shouted and did a little jump.

"Z, please don't shout, baby. Remember what we talked about," Brittany softly told her daughter. The little girl tended to let her excitement get the best of her some times, and it got loud.

"Sparkles, too? Like my personal guard, the duck?" Santana asked furrowing her brows in confusion.

"You'd be surprised at how many Sparkles, and Rainbows, and Bubbles this one's got," Brittany informed the Latina, and both women smiled widely. Zoey didn't know what was so funny, but – not being one to be left out of the fun – she smiled widely as well.

The little girl was still too young to pin point why, but she felt a nice, warm feeling in her tummy when she was around her mommies and they were all having such a nice time smiling and talking to each other. _It felt really good_, she thought.

"Can we go now, Zo?" Brittany asked her daughter, looking down at the girl.

Before Zoey could answer, Santana asked looking around, "What about your friends? Which one of these little monsters is your best friend?" She wanted to know everything there was to know about her girl, it was inevitable.

"Grace didn't come today," Zoey said dejectedly.

"She has a stomach flu," Brittany amended, looking at Santana. "What about Jeremy? Where is he, honey?" the blonde asked, looking around trying to spot the boy among the remaining kids. "You see, Zoey here has _two_ besties, San," she finished with a smile, which the Latina matched.

"His mom already picked him up," Zoey informed her mommies.

"Well, I'm sure I'll meet them another time," Santana said flatly, and then she scooped up Zoey. "Let's go, then?" she added in question. Brittany and Zoey nodded, and the former picked up Sparkles. _The dog_.

As the trio passed by Miss Miller at the classroom door, the teacher said congenially, "Goodbye, Mrs. Pierce. Zoey, I'll see you tomorrow, sweetheart. And it was nice to meet you, Miss Lopez."

Brittany smiled her goodbye. And Santana said, "You too. Say bye to Miss Miller, Zoey," and then she added smiling, "like I taught you."

Ever the obliging girl, Zoey piped in smiling, "Adiós, Miss Miller."

The three ladies left the classroom and Santana put Zoey on the ground. The little girl went ahead of them skipping happily through the school's halls.

"You've been teaching her a lot of Spanish," Brittany said with a tender smile on her face.

"Yeah, well, she absorbs stuff like a little eager sponge," Santana replied, smiling brightly.

"Imagine my surprise the other day when I was trying out a new recipe, you know how I can't follow them very well, and Zoey takes the first bite and says with a scrunched face '_No me gusta_'," Brittany told Santana, grinning from ear to ear.

The Latina just burst into laughter.

"That was my reaction as well. I started laughing my ass off like a mental person, 'cause at that moment she was just the spitting image of you, San, I swear. But all I got were these frightened looks from Jenna and Zoey, looking at me like I was completely crazy," the blue-eyed blonde told through heavy chuckling.

Santana felt the smile falling from her face as she felt a bit of a sting hearing about this precious time that this _other woman_ got to spend with _her_ family. The Latina wished it was with her instead. 'Cause Brittany may not be her family anymore, but Zoey was. In fact, the girl was the only family she had got left. But they were having such a nice time that Santana picked that smile back up, and pushed the thought out of her head. Such nice times shouldn't be spoiled, especially since she would be leaving soon and they wouldn't have as much time alone. The three of them, that was.

Zoey let her mommies catch up with her. "Mama is spending ice cream Thursday with us, right?" the blue-eyed girl asked expectantly, looking up at Brittany as they left through the school's front door.

"Ice cream Thursday?" Santana asked curiously.

"Yeah, I always take Thursday afternoons off to take Zoey for ice cream, and then to the park or something like that. A little alone time, you know? To bond. It's been our tradition right, Z?" Brittany said with ease, and Zoey nodded.

"Well, I wouldn't want to intrude," Santana said honestly, talking much with her hands.

"No, we would love if you joined us. Wouldn't we, Zoey?" Brittany said, putting a hand on Santana's forearm. The blonde had always been a very tactile person. Another reason Santana needed to move, she thought. She couldn't bear to have those hands on her all the time, and _not_ have those hands on her.

"Love," the little girl said briefly but enthusiastically, and started jumping up and down as they stood in front of the school deciding their destination. The energy the girl had was off the charts.

Santana pondered, but her decision was already made a long time ago, "Ok, then. I'll go, too," she said, unable to keep a satisfied grin out of her face. Brittany and Zoey beamed after hearing her decision.

* * *

><p>"I can't believe this place is still here," Santana said, sitting in a booth at Breadstix. Only <em>Lima<em> could be _that_ outdated, she thought.

"Of course it is. Where else it would be?" Brittany deadpanned in a very Brittany-like fashion with furrowed brows, sitting at the other side of the booth with Zoey by her side. "You know Zoey, your mama used to die for the breadsticks they make here," she added, looking sideways at her daughter and back to Santana with an amused smirk.

"It wasn't like _that_," the doctor protested, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"Whatever you say, San," Brittany mocked dismissively.

A waitress came to their table.

"Can I take your orders?" she asked, holding a pad with one hand and a pen with the other.

Zoey was the first to go, of course, "I'll have a chocolate ice cream sundae with sprinkles. Lots of sprinkles," the kid said with a huge grin on her face.

The waitress smiled at her adorableness and wrote it down.

"I'll have the same. You made it sound so delicious, honey," Brittany said, tickling her daughter while the waitress made an extra mark on the pad.

"You always say that," Zoey chirped between giggles.

"Well, I'll have a fruit salad," Santana stated, looking at the waitress, and both ladies across the booth frowned at her. "What?" she asked them.

"You can't have a _fruit salad_, San," Brittany voiced her disapproval.

"Why not?"

"Ice cream Thursday is a day to splurge… _with_ ice cream."

"Well, not all of us can eat whatever we want and still maintain hot bodies, Britt. Like I told many times over the years, most of us don't share your Brittany Paradox," Santana explained as the waitress stood there waiting for a final answer.

"You have an amazing body, babe, uh, Santana," Brittany let the term of endearment slip, but amended quickly, feeling herself blush as she looked from Santana to the waitress and back. It hadn't been planned. Things like that came naturally to her when the brown-eyed doctor was involved. "Besides, we walked here, those were calories lost," she finished lamely.

"It's like fifteen steps between anywhere in downtown Lima," Santana scoffed as Zoey watched her mommies talk with adoration.

"You're a runner," the blonde stated matter-of-factly. "Did you know that, Zoey?" she added, trying to include her daughter on the conversation, and the girl shook 'no' with her head. "You ran _miles_ every morning since I met you. Well, most mornings," she added, with a smirk. And Santana couldn't help but smirk back, understanding quite well the meaning behind her former wife's words. Some mornings Brittany just wouldn't let her leave, but still they engaged in another calorie-consuming _activity_. "So, I'm sure you'll burn these in no time."

Santana was wavering. "What do you say, Zo? Should I go with the sundae?" she asked her daughter, who cried a simple 'yeah'. "Fine, scratch that and bring me the same as them," the Latina told the waitress. "And sorry for taking so long."

"It's ok," the young waitress replied with a smile, and then she left.

"So, how was school today, sweetie?" Brittany asked with interest, looking sideways at the little girl.

"It was ok," Zoey replied shortly, playing with the salt and pepper shakers.

"Just ok?" Brittany pressed on, nudging the little girl with her elbow, while Santana watched with a subtle smile on her lips. "Come on, tell us something interesting that happened. We're dying to know, aren't we, San?" the blonde playfully added.

"Dying," Santana reiterated in the same fashion, locking eyes with her daughter.

"Well, Miss Miller told us this story about a little teddy bear that no one would buy because he was missing a button on his clothes," the blue-eyed brunette said thoroughly, and then looking from Brittany to Santana and back, she quickly added, "but don't feel sad, in the end a little girl buys him and brings him home."

"Aww, that's nice," Brittany cooed, and Santana nodded.

"What else?" the Latina encouraged her daughter to continue.

"At playtime," Zoey began with a peculiar look on her face, "Jeremy found a candy on the grass, you know, near the swing, and he ate it," she added in disbelief. "It was on the floor, that was gross," the kid finished with a disgusted face.

"Yeah, most kids are," Santana deadpanned, and received a glare from Brittany. "What? It's true," the Latina added defensively, running a hand through her hair while staring back at the dancer, who shook her head. "Zoey is one of the few exceptions, aren't you, mi hija? You're just… perfect!" she finished, smiling brightly at Zoey, who smiled back with pride in her big blue eyes.

The waitress came back with three big sundaes, and the trio gladly dove in.

"So, where do you want to go next, Z?" Brittany enquired, stuffing her spoon into delicious ice cream.

"The park!" Zoey exclaimed with a mouth open full of chocolate ice cream.

"Baby, eat first, then answer," Santana instructed softly, receiving and adoring look from Brittany who was very pleased to share the disciplining with another person, _Zoey's mama_, for the first time since the child was born. It felt good. It felt right. And Zoey quickly obliged.

After swallowing, Zoey repeated, "The park!"

"You mean those ten feet of grass, a stretch of concrete, and a couple of benches? Dear daughter of mine, that is _not_ a park. That is a sad excuse for a park," Santana declared rapidly and sarcastically, receiving a puzzled look from her daughter and another glare from Brittany. "I mean, you should see Central Park; haven't you taken her to New York yet, Britt?" she added, looking at the blonde and popping a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.

"We went a couple of times, but she was still too young to remember. Last time I think she was… almost two."

"So, I'll tell you about it, Zo. Central Park is _so_ pretty and _so_ big that you could totally lose yourself in there. They've got fountains, and lakes, and lots of trees and grass. There's even a zoo in there, with all sorts of animals. Even adorable penguins. Ask your mommy, she used to love to go there," Santana told an enthused Zoey, who looked at Brittany expectantly.

"It's true. It's gorgeous there," Brittany said with a smile, looking sideways at her excited daughter. "I even miss it," the blue-eyed woman added wistfully, stealing a glance at Santana, who simply matched the blonde's smile, getting the whole meaning of it.

"Well Z, you're a born New Yorker. I'll take you there sometime, bug," Santana said after a beat, looking into her daughter's excited eyes, and too scared to steal a glance at the dancer. Yet again only she and Brittany understood the entire meaning behind those words.

Zoey uttered a '_yay_' before eagerly returning to eat her sundae, and both women finally managed to lock eyes. Then Santana saw Brittany mouth to her '_Wanna tell her now?_' The Latina looked across the booth at her daughter's smiling, happy face and she just shook her head vehemently at Brittany. Zoey looked so over the moon and peaceful, she couldn't bring herself to tell the little girl at that particular moment. Brittany nodded with a small smile in place.

* * *

><p>Brittany and Santana sat on a park bench as they watched Zoey playing in the jungle gym with a couple of other kids, every once in awhile the little girl would wave and they waved back.<p>

"So," Santana began softly after clearing her throat, and turning to face Brittany completely, "I've been meaning to tell you this, I, uh, spoke to Richard a while ago, and he put me up-to-speed with my finances and all," she added, and Brittany nodded as she turned as well, "and I want you to know now, since I'll be leaving soon," the Latina rambled on a bit nervously, and the dancer winced at the last part, "that I'll be keeping up with the monthly deposits for Zoey."

"Ok," Brittany replied flatly with a nod, unconsciously caressing Sparkles' – the dog – soft head.

"And I also want to help you out with her regular expenses, you know, monthly as well."

"There's no need, really Santana," Brittany refused kindly, shaking her head.

"But I want to. She's my daughter too, I don't want you to carry all the load or her to want for anything," Santana explained calmly, putting her thigh up and resting her arm on the back of the bench.

"She doesn't, I promise you. She's fine," Brittany said sincerely as both women unconsciously glanced at their playing daughter. "We're fine. I appreciate it, but I don't need help with that," she added with conviction as she also put her thigh up on the bench, and propped her elbow on its back.

"Would you ask me if you needed?"

"Of course I would," Brittany answered quickly and just as honestly, but taking in Santana's doubtful look she felt the need to add, "You're the proud one. I always ask for help when I need it."

Feeling the little zing hit her, Santana replied calmly, "True," it _was_ the absolute truth, "but I still feel the need to pitch in, I can't help it. Let me just open up a checking account on your name –"

Brittany was about to pipe in, but Santana help up a finger to stop her, "Just let me finish… Let me open up a checking account on your name and I will do the same as I do with Zoey's savings account, which is deposit some money monthly, and you can use it if or when you need it," the Latina finished, locking Brittany's stare.

"I don't think it's a good idea, San," the blonde said in earnest.

"Please, don't fight me on this, B. It would bring me so much peace of mind," the doctor uttered, almost pleading with such warm brown eyes that the dancer couldn't deny her.

"Alright," Brittany conceded, "_if_ I need it. But she is doing just fine, San. She's a happy little girl," she added, and both women turned to look at the object of their affection.

"She is, isn't she?" Santana asked rhetorically, grinning like a fool.

"Don't get me wrong, she can get _pretty_ sulky over small things, and when she's in one of her moods don't even _try_ to talk to her," the blue-eyed woman said, and they both chuckled with adoration, "but she is very happy, and she has everything she could possibly need. Especially now that you're here for her," Brittany finished in the sweetest tone of voice, receiving one of those looks from Santana that nobody other than the blonde – and now their daughter – had the pleasure of ever witness.

Right then Santana didn't know what came over her and she offered Brittany something that she never thought she would ever offer the dancer again. The Latina put her pinkie up, and it took a while for Brittany to recover from the shock of seeing that scene play out again, but she did recover and tangled her own pinkie around Santana's, when she felt the pressure back the blonde fought hard to keep her tears at bay.

"You've done an amazing job with her, Britt," Santana whispered softly with her pinkie still around Brittany's, "I don't know which one of you I'm more proud of," the doctor finished, looking straight into blue eyes. Brittany felt her heart swelling, Santana wasn't one to compliment lightly. Whenever the Latina said them, she meant them.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Brittany replied sweetly, "Thanks, S. It means a lot. And you –"

Zoey came over running and interrupted their moment, "Who wants to push me on the swing?" the blue-eyed brunette girl asked in a short of breath as her mommies unlocked pinkies.

"Come on," Santana told Brittany, getting up to her feet and pulling the blonde up, who brought Sparkles up with her, "we'll both do it," the doctor said, looking down at their beautiful daughter.

Santana started to push Zoey. Brittany took the swing beside their daughter's, handed Santana Sparkles and started to swing as well.

Looking sideways at the blonde and shaking her head, Santana stated with a small, contained smirk, "You're such a child."

"Higher, mama," Zoey cried out between giggles, and Santana obliged. The Latina then received a playful stuck-out tongue from Brittany, who decided to just ignore the brunette's previous statement.

"You're just proving my point there, B."

Brittany looked sideways to check out if Zoey was seeing her, when she saw that the kid wasn't she flipped Santana off with a wide grin spread across her face.

Santana chuckled and said while pushing Zoey, "Now _that_ wasn't very child-like, little Missy."

* * *

><p>"Ok, I think it's time to go," Brittany proclaimed as she and Santana guarded their daughter, who played on the monkey bars. The sun was almost setting.<p>

"Not yet," Zoey whined, switching bars.

"Yes, right now, come on, sweetie," the blonde replied calmly beside the Latina.

Jumping from the bars in her black patent leather Mary Janes, comfy long-sleeve dress and tights; Zoey chanced, "But I still want to go to the other park to feed the ducks."

"That park is too far, honey. I'm not even with the car here," Brittany said, trying to reason with the little girl.

"I can drive us," Santana piped in, trying to help out, and frankly she was totally enjoying their day together.

"No, San. Zoey knows we've had enough fun for today, right, baby?" Brittany said softly, looking down at her daughter. "We can go there another time."

Zoey looked over at Santana expectantly.

"I think your mommy is right, kiddo," Santana said, backing Brittany up and receiving an appreciative smile from the blonde in return. "We'll go another day," she added, '_whenever I'm here to visit,_' the Latina amended in her mind only, feeling somber as she did it.

"All together?" Zoey asked, starting to form a pout with her lips.

"Sure," Brittany replied quickly while picking up the girl, even 'though she had Santana's departure in the back of her mind. "You're just a little grumpy because you're sleepy, isn't that right, hon'?" the blonde cooed in question, as she and Santana started walking back to the Mustang they left parked near the bank.

"I am not," Zoey protested against Brittany's neck after she laid her little head on the dancer's shoulder.

Brittany and Santana merely exchanged smiles, and before they even reached the car Zoey was already sleeping on the former's arms.

* * *

><p>"Santana, you do realize that a 10 year-old boy in a <em>bike<em> just passed us by, don't you?" Brittany quipped from the passenger seat.

Looking over briefly at a sleeping Zoey lying in the back seat, Santana replied in a huff, "Yeah, well, children should ride in car seats. This isn't safe, I've seen the damage speed can cause when I was rotating in the ER."

"Ookay," the blonde thought it best to just concede, smiling at the Latina's antics.

"I have to buy a car seat," Santana murmured more to herself than to the dancer. "I didn't even think of this. So stupid… Besides, I don't think convertibles are safe for kids either, and the back seat is so small that you probably couldn't fit a proper car seat there anyway," she rambled on, bringing a wider smile to Brittany's face, which she paired with a shake of head.

They rode in comfortable silence for quite a while, and Brittany began to study Santana with a pair of searching, trained and knowledgeable blue eyes. The brunette doctor could feel them on her. She could _always_ feel when they were on her.

After a beat Santana finally commanded in a soft tone, stealing a quick glance at the dancer, "Quit looking at me like that."

Without taking her eyes from the Latina, Brittany asked in earnest, "Like what?"

"Like you can see right through me," Santana uttered, and both could feel the weight of her words.

Brittany immediately returned her gaze to the road, and suddenly the silence turned from comfortable to utterly uncomfortable. There was certainly tension in the air. The atmosphere was definitely quite charged.

"Let me put some music on," Santana said, turning on the stereo to try to lighten the atmosphere a little.

…_cold, in the cold still of night,_

_Careless as any hidden spark,_

_Spreads quickly to the darkest places,_

_Oh, there's doubt,_

_Oh, there's doubt,_

The tune started to reverberate through the inside of the car.

_Deadbolts guard against,_

_Stave off the chance,_

_Of a break away, away from this cloudy place,_

Santana had started to pay attention to the lyrics. _Great, just what I needed…_ she thought sarcastically.

_Spellbound by the stripping of the walls,_

_You're leaving here with all this doubt,_

_Oh, there's doubt,_

_Oh, there's doubt,_

Brittany had started to pay attention to the lyrics. _Great, just what I needed…_ she deadpanned inwardly.

_Doubt, there's doubt,_

_What you celebrate,_

_The errors from here from the errors you made,_

Both women were growing exceedingly embarrassed, and more uncomfortable than before. Brittany fidgeted on her seat. Santana clutched the wheel with excessive force.

_Doubt, there's doubt,_

_To love as you should,_

_The trouble, the time that you did all you –_

Brittany cut the music by quickly turning off the stereo. "Hope it's ok that I turned it off," the blonde said sort of nervously. "It was… uh, I'm feeling a headache coming," she added, badly lying through her teeth.

"Totally fine," Santana replied rapidly and appreciatively, thanking the gods it was finally gone.

In no time she was pulling up in front of Brittany's house. It was already completely dark outside the car.

"So, here we are," Santana declared, turning the key on the ignition and offering the blonde a tight-lipped smile.

"Yes, here we are," Brittany repeated in a gloomier tone, matching the brunette's smile while unbuckling her seatbelt. "Thanks for the ride… and for spending the afternoon with us," the dancer added, less gloomily this time.

"I should be the one thanking you guys. I had a wonderful time."

"We did, too."

After a short pause, Brittany asked lowly, locking eyes with Santana, "So, do you have an idea of when you'll move?" She looked back to confirm if Zoey was still sound asleep. She was.

Santana looked away from the dancer for a while, and after a moment she brought her eyes back to meet those blue ones full-on again. "I won't," the Latina curtly stated.

"What?" Brittany asked, gasping from shock and disbelief.

"After today…" Santana began in a loss for words, "…I can't. I can't leave her," she finished matter-of-factly, stealing a glance back at Zoey with her heart racing on her chest for some reason she couldn't comprehend.

Without warning Brittany simply pounced on Santana, enveloping the doctor's neck with her arms in a bear hug. It took the Latina a moment to loosely hug the blonde back, the latter's action had been just too sudden and brusque.

"You're staying. San, I'm so happy!" Brittany exclaimed against Santana's neck. And the dancer's breath against the skin of her neck was frankly a bit too much for the brunette to handle.

Pulling back a bit from the hug, but feeling Brittany's reluctance to let her go, Santana playfully said, "You're kinda cutting my air supply here, Britt."

"Sorry," the blue-eyed woman meekly said, letting go of Santana. "I just got over excited," she added with her megawatt smile gracing her features.

"It's ok," Santana replied, feeling a bit flustered and flushed, and hoping her cheeks wouldn't tell the tale. "Come on, let me help you with Zoey," she added, unbuckling her seatbelt.

Brittany proceeded to grab her purse and Sparkles while Santana carefully scooped up a heavy-sleeping Zoey. They made it past the blonde's white picket fence, cutting through her tiny front yard. When they were steps away from the door, it opened up and a petite blonde stepped out.

Santana's mind had momentarily forgotten about the woman's existence, otherwise she sure wouldn't have volunteered to bring the kid in. The Latina wasn't exactly ready for the first meeting. She took the small blonde's appearance, unable to contain looking her from head to toe. Santana had built up this image of a gorgeous, flawless blonde in her head, and was grateful to find that it wasn't the case. Brittany's wife was quite… _plain_, she thought to herself. Not that she was surprised 'though, the blue-eyed dancer never was shallow when it came to that. She really was one of the few people who still judged a person's beauty for what they had inside. That was one of the reasons Santana was so proud of having managed to snag her in the first place. It showed the brunette that she might be better than she had originally thought of herself. Santana also gladly assessed that her friends were right: she was definitely hotter. It may not be much, but at least it made her feel a bit better.

"Jenna, hey," Brittany greeted enthusiastically.

"Hi," Jenna replied, looking from Brittany to Santana and back.

"Oh… Santana, Jenna. Jenna, Santana," the blonde introduced smiling with a couple of movements of hand.

"Nice to finally meet you, Santana," the green-eyed blonde stated, outstretching her hand to the brunette.

Santana looked down at Zoey to indicate she couldn't shake her hand, being inwardly grateful for that. Frankly, she didn't feel like playing best buddies. Jenna pulled her hand back, nodding her understanding.

There was an awkward silence, and Santana could have sworn Jenna pulled a subtle once over on her. But she shrugged it off to being paranoid.

Brittany broke the silence by saying, "Come on in, San. I'll make us all dinner."

"No, thanks, I should go home," the brunette quickly answered, immediately turned off by the idea of watching her ex-wife's domestic life with the other woman. '_Go home to no one. To my big, empty house. Nice way to blow an excuse, Santana,_' she added bitterly in her mind.

"No, please, I'll even make your favourite," Brittany insisted sweetly, smiling wide.

"Nah, really, it's getting late," Santana reinforced as gently as she could. There was no way she would be stepping through that threshold that night. "Here," the Latina added, passing Zoey over to Brittany under Jenna's attentive eyes, "take her. Tell her I said bye," she finished briefly, successfully transferring her daughter to the blonde dancer.

"Are you sure?" Brittany tried once again, looking Santana in the eye, who just nodded.

"Nice briefly meeting you," Jenna said to Santana, attempting to joke.

"Sure," was all the Latina managed to nonchalantly say. She never had been one for false statements, that's why she couldn't bring herself to say the pleasantry back.

"Brittany," Santana acknowledged with a head nod as I way to say goodbye, "_Lena_," she erroneously added in the same fashion as she looked at the small blonde, quickly wondering _why_ she pulled those kind of shenanigans, albeit knowing the answer: she was a sore loser. Always had been. And she also felt jealous. Incredibly so. And she didn't know how to handle it. Of course she had felt jealous before, but nothing like this. Brittany had never given her reason for strong jealousy. Throughout their whole relationship, whenever they were in strangers' company, the blonde always looked at the Latina like she was the only person in the room. Like she was the only person who she really desired or wanted to be with. So, she wasn't really used to jealousy feelings.

"Jenna," the green-eyed assistant manager corrected with a tinge of annoyance, and Santana simply nodded and uttered a weak '_Right_' before turning around to walk towards her car.

Brittany and Jenna entered their home. The taller blonde quickly, and gently, placed her daughter on the grey sofa she and her former wife once shared. Zoey would have to be awakened for dinner anyhow, no point taking her all the way to bed.

"So, where were you and Zoey all day?" Jenna nonchalantly asked her wife.

"It's Thursday," Brittany stated, covering Zoey with a small blanket.

"Ah, ice cream Thursday," the green-eyed blonde replied knowingly, and Brittany turned back to face her before nodding.

"Yeah, San joined us for the afternoon," the dancer offered honestly, walking closer towards her wife.

"Oh," Jenna let out in surprise, "you never let _anyone_…" by 'anyone' she meant 'anyone', but _especially_ her; she just didn't want to sound whiny, "…crash your _bonding_ time," the blonde added, stressing out the word Brittany often used to describe the occasion.

"Well, Santana is her mother, too. I couldn't have said 'no'," Brittany said softly, feeling the need to defend herself.

"But it's more than that. I mean, you went to see her every day at the hospital and –"

"Zoey wanted to visit her," Brittany cut her off matter-of-factly, running a hand through her long blonde hair. "And so did I," she added sincerely and softly. "I've know Santana since I was… what? _Six_ years old, Jenna. She's always been my best friend and she always will be, I never pretended otherwise. But that's all we are now," Brittany finished just as sincerely.

"I know… Lately I just feel like everything is changing and I can't do anything to stop it," Jenna conceded softly, crossing her arms across her chest.

Brittany inched closer to her wife and cupped her cheek. "I still love you. That hasn't changed. I made a commitment to you," the dancer stated. "_But_ Santana is still Zoey's mother, and my best friend. So, she's a huge part of my life. That won't change either," she added softly, and soon after received a hug from Jenna.

"She called me Lena. She doesn't even know my name," Jenna said as she pulled back from the hug; trying to prove a point or something, Brittany thought.

Brittany scoffed, "That's just San being San," she said, smiling knowingly. "Now, come on, help me make dinner," the dancer finished, heading towards the kitchen with Jenna in tow.

* * *

><p>Santana was driving home but, honestly, she wasn't looking forward to arrive. Passing through the skirts of downtown she spotted a sign: Charlie's, and remembered of it being a bar. <em>Going to an empty, cold house or downing a drink to warm my insides?<em> She pondered, even 'though she knew beforehand the chosen answer.

The Latina parked the Mustang near the bar, got out and entered the joint. It was poorly lit, relatively small, and very rustic. Dark wood all over the place: tables, chairs, bar… There were only about three guys in there – if you didn't count the guy behind the bar, who faced the other way – and all of them drank alone, minding their own business. This seemed to please the brunette doctor.

Heading to the bar Santana told the tall, dark-haired guy who had his back to her, "An appletini, please."

Santana was so distracted by her own predicament that she didn't even look at the guy's face when he turned around to face her.

"Santana 'Fucking' Lopez," the dark-haired man proclaimed, snapping the Latina from her daze.

Looking at the guy's face for the first time, Santana replied with surprise, "As I live and breathe, Noah Puckerman! What… How…"

"_Santana Lopez_ speechless? That's gotta be a first," he quipped with a smug smile, coming closer to the brunette as he walked behind the bar.

Shaking her head, Santana said in a snarky tone, "You wish!" And then she added, "What the hell are you doing here? I thought you'd be long gone by now. In fact, didn't you go to LA after high school?"

Dodging the subject, Puck asked, "What did you order again?"

"An appletini," she answered flatly.

"Alright, one beer coming right up," he said with a snicker, grabbing a tall glass and bringing down the beer tap handle, successfully filling it to the brim. "Enjoy!" Puck added, sliding the glass across the bar towards the Latina, who grabbed it with an eye-roll.

"Wow, such service," Santana quipped sarcastically, taking a small sip.

"Well, our motto _is_ the customer is always a pain in the ass," Puck quipped back, crossing his arms across his chest. "So, the rumour was true… You've woken up." Seeing a suspicious look on the Latina's face, he added flatly, "Small town."

"It seems that way, huh?" she said in response, ignoring his last remark as he nodded. "Well, a big ol' cheers to that: waking up!" Santana exclaimed with clear fake enthusiasm and grin while raising her glass.

"Oh, right, I've seen your other half _Brittany_ walking around town a couple of times. Thanks for the wedding invitation, by the way."

"Yeah, well, we've never kept in touch, did we?" the brunette said defensively, taking a big gulp of beer.

"Hey, no hard feelings... I'm guessing those are yours. Since I've seen her with another blonde, who I've been told it's her new wife," Puck informed her without affectation, and upon receiving a glare from Santana the man added flatly again, "Small town."

Santana was the one who felt the need to dodge the subject that time. So, wearing a dejected look, she went back to the one Puck had dodged but moments ago, "You've never told me why you're here in fucking Lima instead of LA trying to be a singer. I thought you'd be a teen sensation by now. Oh, God, tell me you're not a fallen teen sensation! That would be awkward," the Latina rambled on, nursing her beer.

Sensing he wouldn't be able to drop the subject, Puck answered as he leaned against the bar, "I had to move back a few years after I went to LA." Short pause. "My mom got sick." Another pause. "Cancer," he finished briefly with an attempt to sound blasé.

"Sorry, I didn't know. How is she?"

"She passed. Five years ago."

"Oh," Santana breathed out sadly, taking in Puck's whole appearance for real for the first time. She had thought he looked quite the same at first sight. Perhaps his face was a bit manlier, less boyish. He appeared to be more built as well, but nothing too exaggerated. And thank God, the mohawk was gone, substituted by a really short haircut. But now she could see as clear as day. His demeanor was way somber than it ever was. Santana wondered what was up with life. _Why the bitch had to beat the shit out of people?_

"I'm sorry," Santana amended, coming down from her head.

"That's life," Puck simply put it, resting his elbows on the bar.

"So, why didn't you get out of here after?"

"You know this town… This shithole has a way of sucking you in, and refusing to spit you out," Puck bitterly declared. Truth be told, he was afraid of going back to LA. His prime had long past, and failure was something he didn't know he could handle at that point in life.

"Hear, hear! And here's to shattered dreams and fucked-up lives!" Santana replied sarcastically, raising her glass again and taking a sip of beer. "So, you work here now?" she added after a beat.

"I used to. But then old man Charlie died and left me the joint. More debts than anything, but, hey, at least it's a distraction that pays the bills," Puck informed her nonchalantly.

Finishing her beer Santana got up from the stool. She was about to pay but Puck declared it was on the house.

"Glad to see the mohawk is history, by the way," Santana said with a grin after stopping before reaching the front door.

"If memory serves me right, you used to _love_ it," Puck countered with a smirk.

The brunette laughed out loud sarcastically, and repeated her earlier statement, "You wish!" And then she turned around swiftly, causing her hair to bounce, and left Charlie's with a strange feeling that she would be revising the joint many times more. After all, it wasn't like she didn't need the alcohol. And misery always did enjoy company. Even if her misery had to keep company with _Noah Fucking Puckerman's_. Beggars can't be choosers.

* * *

><p><strong>Hope you all enjoyed it! Let me know... Review ;) <strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Glee _nor its original characters (if I did it would probably be called _The Brittany and Santana Show_, and all the other characters would only be there to help advance their plot).

**A/N: **This chapter is dedicated to **Verena R, **because last chapter I dedicated to the reluctant reviewers, but Miss R here has been reviewing every single chapter since the beginning. Yes, I checked, and there was a review for each chapter. So, I thank you very much for the complete support. Hope you enjoy the update :)

Again, thanks for **all** the reviews and PMs, last chapter was a record number. Guess you guys liked it too ;)  
><strong>Enjoy chapter seven!<strong>

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><p><strong>Mischances, Stances and Stolen Glances<br>**_||Chapter Seven||_

Next morning Santana strode with purpose through the hospital's front doors. The last day had been nothing if not… eventful. And, to top it all off, she still couldn't catch a decent night of sleep. _Yeah, life was grand!_

Approaching the nurses' station, Santana pushed her Jackie O's up to her head and politely inquired the nurse in pink scrubs who sat behind it, "Hi! Could you tell me what floor is Dr. Richard Hannover's office, please?"

The woman promptly informed her and, a short elevator ride later, she was there. Santana found his door and knocked on it. Hearing a muffled 'come in' the Latina did just so.

Richard had his glasses-clad eyes buried in a pile of paperwork. Looking up after a short while the silver haired man saw Santana standing there.

"Santana!" he exclaimed, rising to his feet. "What a surprise! I didn't expect to see you today," Richard added jolly, kissing the brunette on the cheek affectionately. "Go on, take a seat," he said, guiding her to one of the two armchairs in front of his desk with his hand placed on her upper arm.

The brunette doctor took the comfortable seat and Richard went back to sit behind his desk.

"So, Santana, to what do I own the pleasure?"

"I need a job," the Latina replied while crossing her legs, always the blunt one. "And I was wondering if you were hiring, I mean, being the chief of staff I thought I should ask you if there were any open positions in the hospital at this moment."

"As a matter of fact we have two open spots. Dr. Davis transferred, and Dr. Jones retired," Richard replied calmly, taking off his reading glasses.

"I want you to know that I'm not asking for any favours here, Richard. Just to be considered by my résumé alone, which you happen to know pretty well," Santana stated with conviction, looking the older doctor in the eye. She had always been extremely assertive in the professional world… _and_ out of it as well, let's face it. Besides, she knew her résumé spoke for itself.

Smiling at Santana's similarity in character to Martin, Richard replied, "I wouldn't have thought otherwise." And after a beat he added, "How are your general physician's skills?"

"Sharp," the brunette doctor answered succinctly and firmly. "Why?"

"As you may guess we're not in dire need of a plastic surgeon in our Lima staff at the moment, what we need most are general physicians. You should also know that the pay is good, but not nearly as glamorous as what you must be used to as a plastic surgeon in New York City, Manhattan," Richard spoke with candor, smiling and leaning deeper on his chair, causing it to swing a bit.

"As my dad used to say, a job is a job. And I would be more than glad to have it," Santana proclaimed honestly.

"Did you make arrangements with the Medical Board to revalidate your license yet?"

"Yes, I set up a meeting in New York next week to take the practicals," Santana informed the blue-eyed man. "It shouldn't be a problem, 'though. It's all up here," she added, pointing to her head with a smug grin on her face.

"In that case we'd be lucky to have you. Definitely an asset to the current staff," Richard spoke through a smile, outstretching his hand to Santana on the other side of the desk, who smilingly shook on it.

"Richard, I don't even know how to thank you," Santana said with appreciation, pulling her hand back.

"_I_ should be the one thanking _you_. I've been sitting on résumés for a month now and, let me tell you, the quality of the applicants has been mediocre at best."

"I promise I won't let you down."

"Do you have some time now? I could walk you to HR to get the ball rolling," Richard stated, getting up when Santana replied with a simple 'Sure,' and rose to her feet as well.

They walked over there while engaged in idle small talk. Upon arriving, Richard escorted Santana inside. There were two women and a guy in the room, each behind a desk. The blue-eyed chief of staff went to the guy and explained Santana was going to be filling one of the two positions currently open for doctors. So, he should open procedure and gather everything he needed from the Latina.

"So, Santana, I think you are all set here. Would you mind if I head back to my office? Only these days I truly comprehend why your dad complained so much about the amount of paperwork that comes from being a chief," Richard said lightheartedly.

Flashing the man a small smile, Santana replied, "Sure, please don't let me keep you."

"Ok, don't forget about your promise to come to dinner, huh? And bring Zoey along."

"Will do," the brunette doctor replied promptly.

"Diane will call you to set a date," Richard said with an easy smile, and Santana nodded, matching it. After that he left and the Latina proceeded to pass along all the info the HR guy needed.

* * *

><p>Santana parked the black Range Rover in front of the Pierces' residence. The driveway was already occupied by Rob's car and, besides, she hated clogging up other people's driveway. When Rob, Annie and Ally Pierce went to visit her in the hospital a few times, they made her promise she would come to dinner after she was discharged. So, the day after she left the hospital, Annie called her to set something up. The thing was: Santana was feeling rather uneasy about the whole situation. The Pierces had always been like family to her, the Latina spent many hours of her childhood and youth in their home, after all. She had babysat Ally along with Brittany more times than she could count. And they had become officially her family when she and the blonde tied the knot. However, she and Brittany were no longer married. In fact, the dancer had another wife altogether. She didn't know how the Pierces felt, she didn't know where she stood amidst all the changes… she didn't know <em>anything<em> anymore. That was her constant those days.

And those were the reasons why Santana only agreed to a lunch. If things got awkward she wouldn't have to sit through it for too many hours. Taking a deep breath to gather up some courage the brunette doctor left the car and made her way towards the front door after climbing up the few familiar steps of the Pierces' porch.

Santana stayed a while there in front of the white door, with her hand held up bowled into a fist, trying to muster some will power to finally knock. When her arm grew heavy she finally did it. _What the hell…_ the Latina thought.

"I'll get it!" she heard a muffled man's voice coming from behind the door.

A brief moment later the door flew open and Santana instantly saw Rob Pierce's smiling face. It felt weird to the Latina to feel this nervous. She had done this so many times, but she couldn't contain that dreadful feeling that took over the pit of her stomach.

"Santana!" the man in his almost late fifties exclaimed energetically, enveloping the brunette in a hug. Brittany's parents were considerably younger than Santana's. "How nice to see you out and about!" he added, pulling back from the hug.

Feeling awkward as hell, Santana offered him a half-smile. All she could manage at that moment. After swallowing hard she said nervously, "Thanks, it's nice to see you too, Mr. Pierce."

"Mr. Pierce?" Rob asked with a laugh, knitting his brows together in confusion. The young brunette hadn't called him that since she was a wee girl. Even then it had always been 'Mr. P.'. Guiding Santana into the house with his hand on her upper back, and closing the door behind them, Rob added with a laugh, calling out to his wife in the kitchen, "Did you hear that, Annie? Santana just called me 'Mr. Pierce'."

Santana smiled even more awkwardly, if that was even possible.

"What's gotten into you?" the blue-eyed man inquired, smiling broadly. A distinct characteristic of the Pierce family, by the way: broad smiles. Each one of them had it.

"Santana arrived? Come in here, sweetie," came Annie's cheerful shout from the kitchen.

Shaking her head dismissively the Latina replied, forcing yet another smile, "Nothing. I just… spaced out or something, Rob." She hoped the lame excuse would fly with the help of the drop of his nickname.

"Ok," the dirty-blond man replied smiling, and Santana sighed with relief. "Now go on to Annie. She has been dying to see you," he added, and Santana started walking. "She's in the kitchen," Rob finished from behind her, and went back to his seat in front of the tv.

Entering the cozy and yet spacious kitchen, Santana spotted Annie right away in front of the stove as the woman in her mid-fifties stirred something.

"Santana, so good to see you!" the blonde exclaimed, smiling broadly. She was a Pierce after all.

Santana always thought to herself that if the Pierces weren't, you know, _the Pierces_, she would probably be annoyed by them. They were all so congenial, and warm, and effusive, and friendly… in other words, the opposite of Santana, and exactly like Brittany. It was no surprise that the dancer was the way she was. Growing up in a household like that there was no other end result possible.

Before giving time for the Latina to reply anything, Annie added, "How are you? How are you feeling, honey?" Again, she gave no time for an answer, and added while still stirring the pot, "Come here and give me a hug, if I stop stirring this it will get all lumpy."

Santana did what she was told, and went to give the blue-eyed blonde a hug, already feeling the tension dissipating from her body. This was all so familiar that the brunette couldn't really help the at ease feeling.

Pulling back the Latina finally answered, matching Annie's smile, "I'm good, thanks. It's nice seeing you, too."

"How is it going in your parents' place? Is it strange being there?" Annie asked, stirring the content of the pot with a silicone spoon. And yes, the Pierces were all sharers as well.

"A little," Santana replied candidly while leaning against the counter, she always had a hard time bs-ing the older woman. "But I'll get used to it," she added, trying not to sound like a pathetic, scared, little girl.

"You know you can always count on me and Rob, right? We're here for you," Annie said softly, looking straight into Santana's eyes for emphasis. "Things may have changed, but you're still a daughter to us. Always has been. Just as much as Brittany and Allison," the blonde added with emotion pouring out of her voice, and just like that Santana felt all the awkwardness and uneasiness finally departing. The Latina simply matched Annie's wide tight-lipped smile.

"What about Allison?" the blonde teen asked playfully with suspicion while she entered the kitchen. Annie just dismissed her question with a shake of her head.

"Santana, what's up?" Ally asked with a broad smile, and after taking a once over at the Latina she playfully added while leaning on the counter beside Santana, "Ah, I see you ditched the cane; how are people to know how old you are now, huh?"

"Ha, ha! Very funny," Santana replied sarcastically, slinging one arm over the blue-eyed teen's shoulders. Annie looked back from the stove with a sweet smile on her face.

"I try," Ally replied cheekily, leaning a bit into Santana as a way to say 'hi'.

"What are you doing home in the middle of a Friday, anyway? Not ditching class, I hope," Santana joked.

"Faculty meeting," Annie beat Ally to the punch.

Pulling her arm back the brunette said in disbelief while looking sideways at the teen, "I can't believe _little Ally_ is already a senior," small pause, "and one taller than me at that."

"I know, right?" Ally replied in a very teenager sort of way.

"Pierce women have always been really tall," Annie piped in matter-of-factly without turning to face them.

"It seems like just yesterday Britt and I were running around, carrying your baby ass up and down the house…" Santana mused with a grin. "Well, actually, this explains a lot. We dropped you on your head quite a lot back then," the brunette quipped with a wider grin on her face.

"Ha, ha! Very funny," Ally repeated Santana's previous sarcastic remark, bumping the Latina with her shoulder.

Just like old times the two proceeded to steal some garnishes that were set aside on the counter near a cutting board, while Annie busied herself with preparing the meal.

"Don't tell Britt this, but you're still my favourite sister-in-law," the blue-eyed teen added in earnest, changing the subject. That brought out a sweet smile from Santana. She has always loved the kid like a sister.

"Well, considering everything, I think you are now _absolutely_ my favourite Pierce offspring," Santana quipped with a smirk. "And you can totally tell B if you want," she added playfully as they both laughed out loud.

Seeing them eating Annie reproached lightly, "You two, stop eating my garnishes! You'll spoil your appetite." Both smiled mischievously at each other.

"So, what about colleges? You're going, right?" Santana asked with interest while chewing slowly. Ally nodded in confirmation. "Which ones did you apply to?"

"Ohio State, Penn State, Marshall University, Kent State, NYU, and…" Ally said ceremoniously, looking sideways at Santana as she dragged out the last name, "…Columbia," she finished with a smile.

"There it is: _Columbia_!" Santana exclaimed enthusiastically after hearing her alma mater's name. "You dragged out just to keep me on edge, right?" she teased the youngster with a playful smack on her arm.

"We're very proud of our Ally. With her grades I'm sure she can get in anywhere she wants," Annie said proudly, dumping something from one pot into another. After she looked back the older woman saw that the two girls – yes, no matter how old they got the Pierces still referred to all of them as 'girls' – were still stealing her garnishes. So, she added, "Will you two _stop_ stealing my garnishes and make something useful like setting the table?"

The two "girls" quickly obliged, going towards the kitchen table to set it for lunch.

"Tell me Columbia is on the top of your list. I mean, it _has_ to be! And don't tell me you've been listening to Man-Hands. Despite anything she might have told you, NYU simply pales in comparison," Santana said in a mild frenzy, standing behind a chair from the table.

"It's still too soon to tell, I mean, I _just_ send out the applications. But I think it would be hard to really go to Columbia, _or_ NYU for that matter. Even _if_ I managed to get in, I'd have to get, like, a full scholarship to go there," the blue-eyed teen said honestly, retrieving a flower arrangement from the center of the table.

The Pierces weren't exactly rich. They were able to provide everything for their daughters, both girls never wanted for anything. However, Rob had always have a blue-collar job, and until before Ally was born, Annie worked part-time in the Post Office's HQ to help out with the finances. So, paying in full for a private university was something they simply couldn't make happen.

"Well, I wouldn't worry about that if I were you. I mean, there's always the Santana Lopez College Fund you could get with 100% certainty," Santana said with a broad smile on – yes, they were infectious around there – while going to one of the kitchen's drawers to get a checked tablecloth. She still knew her way around that kitchen like it was her own. The Latina had done the set-the-table dance innumerous times before at the Pierces' home.

Turning around from the open fridge in front of her, Annie said solemnly, "We couldn't take your money, Santana."

"Why not?" the brunette doctor quickly countered, turning around to face the elder Pierce woman.

"It wouldn't be right."

"Please, like all of you are here for me, _I_ am here for you, too. Ally is a sister to me. It would mean the world if I could help her get exactly what she wants," Santana spoke candidly and softly. "Just promise you'll come to me if you need anything," the Latina added, shifting her gaze from Annie to Ally.

Annie – and Ally – pondered what she said for a moment, and then both flashed Santana an appreciative and warm smile. Ally nodded, looking back at the brunette, who smiled wider while Annie closed the fridge and went on with the lunch's preparation.

"You have any idea of what major you will be?"

"Not yet, really."

"That's completely normal at this stage."

"Yeah, I guess."

"So, you know Columbia's dean of admissions?" Santana began, spreading the checkered tablecloth across the table with Ally's help. "Well, I did his wife's, you know…" she placed her hands one at each side of her face and pretended to be stretching it, "…and her, you know…" she pointed to her boobs.

Hearing the gap on Santana's speech Annie turned around to see what she was talking about and couldn't help but laugh.

"Suffice to say she was very pleased with the results, and I still have her number. If you want I could give her a call, or even meet with her while I'm at New York next week, so she can put a good word for you with her husband," she finished, gauging a reaction from Ally who seemed quite keen on the idea.

"That would be wonderful, Santana," Ally said with enthusiasm, going to the kitchen cabinet to grab plates, while Santana followed to grab glasses. "If it's not too much trouble, of course," the blue-eyed youngster added quickly, looking sideways at the Latina with four red plates in hand.

"No trouble at all," Santana replied even quicker, wearing a soft smile while holding four tall glasses.

The thing about Santana Lopez was that she was a hard one to befriend or charm. But once someone got her in their corner, the brunette would fight with her life alongside you. For good. She was _that_ loyal. And all the Pierces were on the receiving end of such privilege, such hard-earned privilege.

"That's very nice of you, Santana," Annie said, looking up from the cutting board she busied herself with slicing some onions. The Latina just smiled in response, putting a glass along each plate Ally laid on the table. "So, you're going to New York next week?" the blue-eyed woman added, making easy conversation.

"Yeah, I gotta renew my medical license. I just got a job at the local hospital," Santana replied promptly while she placed the last glass on the table.

"That's great! Congratulations, sweetie," Annie said, smiling wider, while Ally grabbed the silverware from one of the counter's drawers.

"And I also have _a lot_ of shopping to catch up on," Santana added with a laugh. Annie and Ally laughed with her.

"So, does my granddaughter know you'll be gone for a whole week? I'm guessing she won't be happy. All we hear is mama this, mama that, I mean, she has always been very much infatuated with you but lately is just crazy," Annie said through chuckles.

Santana couldn't help but be taken over by the widest grin. It always happened when someone mentioned her daughter to her. "No, she doesn't know yet. But after I leave here I'll be picking her up at Britt's to spend the weekend with me. And to be completely honest I'm a bit nervous. Any advices?" the Latina replied, looking from Annie to Ally, who had just finished placing the silverware on the table beside the plates.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll do fine, honey," Annie said dismissively. "Zoey absolutely loves you, and she's the sweetest girl."

"And the funniest," Ally piped in with a smug smile, taking a seat at the table.

"And the smartest," Santana felt the need to add while taking a seat at the table as well, and the three women laughed at their own antics.

Entering the kitchen Rob said playfully with a smile, "What's so funny that you ladies keep laughing like crazy in here? I even quit the sports news to join ya."

"Just praising our granddaughter, that's all," Annie replied flatly with a lingering smile still on her lips.

"Ah," Rob said, leaning against the counter beside Annie. "Prettiest little girl in the world," the dirty-blond added, causing the three women to burst out laughing again.

Scratching his head Rob asked in confusion, "What? What's so funny?" But he got no answer, just more laughter. "Women…" the blue-eyed man sighed loudly, being used to be surrounded by them. To be honest, he loved it. Every single aspect of their complicated selves. So, he joined in the laughter, even 'though he didn't know what it was all about.

"Take a seat, honey. Lunch's ready," Annie said through a laugh, placing a light hand on her husband's shoulder.

* * *

><p>Santana parked the car right in front of Brittany's house. She had enjoyed lunch at the Pierces very much, you know, after her whole nervousness deal passed. Passing through the blonde's picket fence, Santana quickly arrived at her door and rang the doorbell. She hoped, <em>really<em> hoped, _Gemma_ wasn't home. Their last – and first – encounter had been awful enough.

After a few seconds, the blue-eyed dancer opened the door with a smile and said, "Hey, San!"

"Hi," Santana replied with a tight-lipped smile.

"Come in," the blonde jolly said, stepping away for the brunette to enter, which she did. Eyeing the black Range Rover parked in front of her house before closing the door, Brittany asked curiously, "Driving your mom's car?"

"Yeah," Santana replied, looking back at Brittany who had just closed the door. "I told you convertibles aren't safe for kids. Especially without a car seat, which I already bought this morning before I swung by Rosa's. They assured me it was the safest and most comfortable," she added like a neurotic parent.

Brittany smiled at the Latina's antics, and asked still near the door, "You went to Rosa's?"

"Yeah, I went there to beg her to come back. I mean, I can't deal with that big house on my own. You know how much I hate house work," Santana said. Rosa had been her parents' maid for as long as Santana could remember. She loved the woman.

"Oh, that I know," Brittany quipped through a grin. "Did she agree to?" she added and Santana simply nodded.

"Where are my manners? Please, come sit down for a while," the dancer said, guiding Santana further into her living room.

"Where's Zoey?" Santana asked, a little reluctant to enter further into the blonde's place and wind up running into the other blonde.

"You're a little early. Lisa is bringing her over from school today," Brittany explained, trying to guide Santana in. Reading the confusion on the doctor's face the blonde clarified, "Lisa is Jeremy's mom, you know, Zoey's –"

"Zoey's best friend," Santana cut her off. "Yes, I listen. Anyways, I know I'm early, I just wanted to see if you still had my books and cd's," she added.

"Yes, I do. Come in," Brittany tried again, and Santana finally started moving further ahead.

Taking in for the first time the familiarity of… _everything_: furniture, artwork, rugs, plants and all that jazz; Santana said a bit astounded, "Wow, this brings me back!" Short pause. "Weird."

"Yes, I brought everything back from New York. I just… couldn't part with anything," Brittany said softly, looking around the living room that was joined with the kitchen in an open floor plan. "I made my dad drive everything in a U-Haul truck all the way here," the blonde added with a smile.

Santana didn't say anything, she just kept looking around.

"What? Something wrong?" Brittany asked, stepping closer to Santana who stood behind the grey sofa. No response, 'though. "Say something, San," the blonde added with concern.

Shaking her head, Santana finally said, "It's nothing, really." After a beat she added, "It's just a bit weird, that's all." And she added a smile to quell Brittany a bit.

"So, do you like my place?" Brittany asked smiling, a bit too eager. She still needed Santana's approval in all things. A habit like that was hard to drop.

Santana took the time to look around again. The living room, the kitchen… She already had done so, but she wanted the blonde to know she was taking this seriously. It was definitely small, and from outside she had already noticed that the place had only one floor. But it was warm. Brittany always had the ability to turn anything into a nice place.

"Yes, it's really cozy," Santana answered after a moment.

Brittany smiled wider and replied, "You always say '_cozy'_ when you mean '_small'_."

_Damn, the woman knows me too well_. The Latina mused inwardly.

"Well, in that case our first Manhattan apartment was _much_ cozier," Santana joked lightheartedly through a coy smile.

They had moved in together when the brunette was in her second year of college. They had decided that they would live separately when they first went to New York – something about new relationships and too much pressure – but Santana hated her roommate in campus and Brittany hated all her alone, Santana-less time between temping and auditioning.

"But, seriously, it's lovely," Santana added honestly, receiving a sweet smile from the blonde.

"Do you need a box to put the cd's and books?" Brittany asked, trying to be of some help.

"Sure, that would be great," the brunette doctor replied and the blonde quickly left the room.

Santana took the time to walk around for a while. Looking at the artworks that hung on the walls, touching the sofa's fabric, running her fingers through the top of the coffee table, reading the titles of the books on the bookshelf… This was _really_ weird, she thought.

Brittany resurfaced with a cardboard box in hand. "Here," she said, handing the Latina the box. "You can take anything else you want. Everything in here is all yours, too. Besides, most of our stuff didn't fit in here. It _is_ a small place. There's a bunch of stuff in my parents' basement and garage, you can help yourself to anything," the blue-eyed dancer added sincerely.

"I don't want anything," Santana quickly responded. The last thing she needed was more reminders of her old life in form of furniture, paintings, or decorations.

"You're sure?" Brittany reinforced gently as Santana made her way to the bookshelf.

"Very," the brunette curtly put it while the blonde took a seat on the sofa, realizing no good would come from pushing the Latina.

"So, how was lunch with my parents?" Brittany asked, watching Santana's back while she retrieved her books. The blonde had to mentally scold herself when she realized her eyes were trained on the brunette's perfect ass. Then she quickly averted them.

"Who told you?" Santana asked in surprise, looking back at the dancer.

"My mom. Why? Was it a secret?" the blue-eyed woman asked puckishly, smiling broadly. _Definitely a Pierce_, Santana thought.

"No," the Latina replied defensively, turning back to the bookshelf. After a beat, she added with uncertainty, "You don't mind it, do you? Me seeing them? I know it's kinda weird after –"

"Don't be ridiculous, San!" Brittany chastised her with a laugh. And then she added in a more serious tone, "You already lost a set of parents. I would _never_ take away the other."

Santana didn't say anything, the brunette doctor just stopped grabbing her cd's, turned around and rewarded the blonde with that sweet smile of hers, and Brittany's heart melted into a puddle. So, she merely matched said smile.

After a couple of minutes Santana finished her task.

"I'm done," the Latina said, holding the cardboard box with two hands.

"Ok, wanna drink something?" Brittany said, getting up from the couch. "Let's move this party to the kitchen," she added with a smile, starting to walk towards there.

"Wait!" Santana replied, making the blonde stop to a halt.

"What?" the blue-eyed dancer said, turning around.

"Aren't you going to check what I took?" the brunette asked with her brows slightly furrowed together, placing the box on top of the coffee table.

"Of course not," Brittany replied, full-on chuckling while walking back towards the coffee table.

"Well, I totally thought you would," the brown-eyed woman said, placing her hands on her hips. "Here," she added, taking some cd's out of the box, "I confess I took these ones that are clearly yours," Santana finished, placing the few items on top of the coffee table beside the box.

Brittany's eyes fell on the cd's and among them there was one by _Fleetwood Mac_. The blonde could see that Santana's eyes were on it as well, and both women looked up and shared a bittersweet smile without saying anything.

Finally Brittany spoke softly, "You can have them." She saw the Latina's doubtful eyes and added, "I have all of those in my iPod, anyway." She saw that Santana seemed to have accepted that, and even flashed a small smile towards the dancer.

"So, what about that drink? Want one?" the blue-eyed woman asked.

"No, thanks," Santana declined the offer with a polite smile. "But what I've been wanting to ask you for a while now is if you've seen my Columbia t-shirt, you know, that one –"

"The one you always loved to sleep in," Brittany softly completed the thought before Santana could. The Latina smiled sweetly – again – to confirm, locking brown eyes with blue ones.

After they broke out of the stare contest, Brittany said, "I might have an idea. Follow me." And she started walking towards a hallway within the house. Santana followed.

They passed by Zoey's room, a small bathroom and reached their destination. The last room of the house: Brittany's bedroom. Upon entering Santana felt exceedingly disturbed. Eyeing the bed – thankfully _not_ the one she and Brittany shared – Santana was hit with an unpleasant, if not disgusting, myriad of images of the blonde with her _other_ blonde. And they were quite graphic. The Latina shuddered, and mentally kicked her brain for not having an on/off switch, and for being completely inappropriate.

Brittany went to a dresser, another item that didn't belong in their old New York place. _Obviously_, Santana thought. We had that walk-in closet; the brunette made sense of it all in her head. Finally, the blonde took something out of it. It was the old navy Columbia t-shirt.

"Here," Brittany said, handing it to Santana. "I used to only be able to fall asleep when I was wearing it, and after that I just kept on using it," the dancer added with a shy smile on her lips. And to the brunette doctor that was a big, '_see, you weren't the only one who had trouble sleeping_', and she couldn't help but feel a bit self-centered.

"Thanks," Santana replied, holding on to the worn out t-shirt. She had that thing since college.

"I'll miss it," Brittany said softly with a wistful smile tugging on her lips as she tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

"I'm sure you'll get over it," Santana snapped back before she could help it. That bedroom was clearly doing things to her. And _not_ good things. "Sorry," she added quickly, shifting her gaze to the carpeted floor.

"It's ok," the blue-eyed woman replied absentmindedly, but clearly hurt.

They heard a car's horn outside.

"It's Lisa. I'll go get Zoey. Do you want to meet her?"

"Another time."

Brittany left the room and Santana followed soon after. There was no need for her to hang in there for longer than necessary. The Latina put the t-shirt in the box, and leaned against the tiny kitchen's island when Zoey burst through the front door. The child had energy, the brunette doctor mused once more.

"Mama!" Zoey exclaimed enthusiastically, jumping to Santana's arms while Brittany got in and closed the front door behind her, putting the kid's backpack on the sofa.

"Hey, Z," Santana replied, catching the little girl with a grin plastered on her face. "How was school today, mi hija?" she added before placing a kiss on Zoey's head.

"Good," the kid in denim overalls shortly put it as Brittany walked over to watch the two of them together. She never got tired of watching those scenes.

"Are you ready for the weekend with mama, baby?" Brittany asked in her sweet tone, which was always used when addressing their daughter.

"Yes!" Zoey practically yelled, and both women scrunched their eyes at the sound. If it were any other kid Santana would be extremely pissed off or highly annoyed, but coming from her daughter it was simply shrugged off as endearing.

"Ok, then, let's grab your overnight bag in your room," Brittany said with a smile.

"Yes, I want to show mama my room," Zoey said, wiggling in Santana's arms to be put down to the ground, which the brunette doctor quickly obliged to. "Hurry," she added, tugging on the Latina's hand as Brittany made her way to the little girl's room.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Santana replied as she was practically dragged by her daughter.

They entered the girl's yellow room and Zoey proceeded to excitedly introduce Santana to each one of her many "friends", a plan that the kid had in mind for a long time and right then was finally able to follow through with it. The brunette, and Brittany, listened to everything their daughter had to say with the type of adoration that only parents can quite muster. As Santana heard the names and stories that came along with it, she took the time to take in her daughter's room. It was small, but very warm and lively. Filled with books, and stuffed animals, and little mementos collected along the sweet girl's time of life. Santana couldn't help but smile as she saw a photo of her and Brittany on top of Zoey's nightstand. They had taken it a little while before the… incident. It pictured Brittany sitting on the sofa with Santana beside her, hunched over and with her ear pressed against the blonde's belly as if she was hearing the baby, and Brittany's hands rested on the Latina's head as if she was stroking her hair. Both had silly smiles on their faces. She was so happy, Santana thought back. And then she felt the dancer's eyes on her. Brittany saw what had caught the doctor's attention, and they shared what it seemed like the 100th knowing look of the past few days.

Zoey finished with her ramblings and Brittany took out a pink duffel bag from underneath the girl's bed, which she had packed a couple of hours ago.

Eyeing the big, bulky duffel Santana playfully said, "Is Zoey staying for the weekend or for the _whole_ month?" And she flashed them a charming smile.

"Trust me, you wouldn't want to be caught without Rainbow, or any of her stuff, when she decides she wants them. Isn't that right, Zo?" Brittany quipped, looking down at Zoey with a teasing smile on her lips. The blue-eyed girl just shrugged in response.

"Ok, then…" Santana replied, smiling while raising an eyebrow. "Ready to roll, kiddo?" she added, slinging the bag on her shoulder and looking at her daughter who nodded profusely.

"I'll walk out with you guys. I gotta go to the studio," Brittany announced as the three of them left the house.

As the blonde was closing the front door, and Santana and Zoey waited near her, the Latina asked, "You want a lift? I can drop you at the studio if you want."

"Nah, thanks 'though. Friday is usually a long day at the studio; I'll need the car to get back," Brittany replied, smiling back at the brunette.

They started walking towards Santana's car and the Latina opened up the back door. "Get in, baby," she said, stepping sideways so the kid could climb up with her aid while Brittany watched the scene.

Santana proceeded to drop the bag on the back seat and buckle up Zoey in the new car seat.

Seeing the thing, Brittany exclaimed, "Jesus, San! That thing is huge."

"Well, they said it was the most comfortable one," Santana defended the car seat as if it were herself, looking back at the amused dancer. "Is it comfy, Z?" she added in question, shifting her gaze back to Zoey, who again nodded with a wide smile. That was approval enough for Santana, who backed away from the back door to give Brittany a chance to say goodbye.

Leaning in Brittany said sweetly to her daughter, "Ok, honey, off you go. Have a wonderful time with mama, ok? And be good for her," she then placed a kiss on Zoey's cheek. Santana watched the scene unfold with untamed joy. "I'll miss you millions, billions, trillions, gazillions!" the blue-eyed woman playfully added with a grin, kissing her daughter all over the face while saying it.

"I'll miss you, too," Zoey piped in through giggles.

Brittany placed one last light kiss on her daughter's head, pulled back and closed the door, being greeted by a smiling Santana, who tried to hide her glee but failed miserably. Brittany smiled back at the Latina, feeling so damn good to see a proud, happy smile on her best friend's face.

"Have fun, and call me if you need anything," Brittany happily told Santana, who nodded her understanding.

The blonde leaned forward to give the Latina a kiss on the cheek, but Santana sensed what she would do and outstretched a hand. It stung Brittany but she shook on it nonetheless. She knew how guarded the brunette could be. Brittany just felt sad Santana was guarding herself from the blonde.

Santana walked over to the driver's door and got in. Brittany popped her head in for one last time through the open front door window and looked from Santana to Zoey and back. She then exclaimed, "Bye, ladies!" And then she blew Zoey a kiss, who blew one back to her mommy.

Santana nodded at Brittany one last time, and off they went. Brittany watched the Range Rover go and, even 'though she felt overjoyed that mother and daughter would be spending time together, a part of her couldn't help but wish… _she_ was there with them.

Driving the car Santana enthusiastically asked Zoey with a smile her daughter couldn't even see from the back seat, "So, ready to buy lots of yummy stuff for the weekend?"

"Yeah!" Zoey called out from her car seat, just as enthused with the idea.

* * *

><p>After grocery shopping Santana and Zoey had a blast together throughout the afternoon and evening. The Latina made her daughter a delicious afterschool snack, and after eating it they proceeded to the sofa where they continued to eat all kinds of sugary crap while watching Peter Pan – which Zoey made <em>sure<em> to bring to introduce Santana to – and the first Shrek, Zoey's favourite out of all of them. Then they animatedly chatted with a work-bound Jimmy for quite a while through Skype, and later Santana fed Zoey a healthy dinner. After all the junk food she felt it would be bad parenting if she decided to let the kid eat anything but something highly nutritious.

Then Santana and Zoey went about to build a neat fort in the living room, using enough sheets and blankets to warm up a small country's population. When she took over the state of the living room Santana couldn't help but picture her mother turning over in her grave, and it brought a wistful smile to her face. For dessert the Latina brought the fire alive in the living room's fireplace and went along to roast s'mores with Zoey in front of the warm fire with the help of the fireplace's poker. Zoey was beyond herself with the camping experience, and Santana swelled over being able to provide such a good time to her child.

With the promise to come back down to the fort to watch one last movie, The Little Mermaid – according to Zoey, her 'favouritest' princess – Santana convinced the girl to go upstairs for a bath and pajamas time. Both of them took a long, hot bath and dressed up in comfy pj's. As they were headed downstairs, smelling as good as humanly possible, they passed by one of the guest bedrooms.

Stopping the kid from taking another step, Santana stood in front of the guest bedroom's open door with Zoey beside her and said while both of them looked in, "So, Zoey, what do you think about this bedroom, sweetie?"

It was spacious and you could see that in day time it definitely had a pretty good amount of natural light, considering the amount of nice large windows around it.

Zoey looked around and just shrugged while looking up at her mama. It seemed like a regular bedroom to her.

"So, what would you think if we painted all the walls in a nice shade of purple –" Santana knowingly began in a hushed, promising voice but was cut off by her daughter.

"Purple's my favourite colour," Zoey interjected with a glint in her oblivious blue eyes.

"Really? How interesting," Santana feigned surprise while pushing the door the whole way back. "And what would you say if we also bought a pretty bed, and a nice dresser, and a wardrobe, and perhaps some nice shelves to put books and lots of toys –" the Latina added in the same tone, and she could see that Zoey was beginning to see the picture 'cause she looked increasingly excited.

"What do you think? Huh? Would you like to have your own room here, you know, so you don't have to sleep with your ol' mama, bug?" Santana added with a wide smile, looking down at her kid.

Zoey began to bounce up and down with excitement. "I guess that is a 'yes', huh?" Santana said, laughing out loud at her daughter.

"Yes!" Zoey shouted, hugging Santana's right leg fiercely.

"Ok, then. We'll make that happen in not time. Now let's get back to the fort," the brunette doctor replied, guiding her daughter with a protective hand on the girl's back.

On their way down they passed by a tasteful iron cross that hung on a wall. Santana's parents had always been devoted Catholics.

"Is that Jesus?" Zoey asked with interest, pointing at the object.

"Yes, that's Jesus, baby. How do you know that?" Santana asked in the same fashion as they passed by it and headed down the marble staircase.

"Grandma Annie showed me. She taught me a prayer, too," Zoey informed, looking up at Santana as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

"That was nice of her, huh?" the Latina said softly while they entered the living room. Zoey nodded her agreement.

"Do you believe in Him?" came Zoey's question and it took the brunette by surprise.

After a few seconds of pondering Santana replied honestly, "Yes, I do." She may not be the most religious person, but she had always believed. Of course she had issues with the religion she was brought up on. That went without saying. But she always had believed in Him. Especially now, looking at her beautiful, perfect daughter, how could she not?

"Ok, now go get cozy into the fort while I grab my dad's laptop in the office so we can watch The Little Mermaid in there," Santana told Zoey, who quickly did what she was told with a pleased smile on her face.

* * *

><p>Santana and Zoey laid side by side inside of the fort, snuggled under a white fleece blanket while the fireplace fire a few feet away from them warmed the whole room in the nicest of ways. They watched the movie playing on the laptop between them with attentive eyes.<p>

"I love Ariel's hair," Zoey piped in, looking sideways at the Latina.

"Yeah, me too… It's really pretty," Santana whispered back, looking at her kid as well.

"I wish I had red hair," the blue-eyed girl sighed.

"Nah, yours is perfectly gorgeous. Just like mine, see," the brunette said, smiling as both girls looked at their brown hair against the stack of pillows. After the inspection Zoey seemed to have agreed with her mother.

"Long hair is the prettiest. Like mine, yours, mommy's, Aunt Quinn's, Aunt Ally's…" Zoey started to say, listing everyone she could remember.

"Yes, sweetie, I got the idea," Santana said, stopping her daughter's ramble with a chuckle.

They fell in silence again and went back to watching the movie.

After a moment Zoey stated flatly, "I believe, too."

"In what, Z?" Santana asked in confusion without tearing her gaze from the screen.

"In Jesus," Zoey said matter-of-factly, pulling the subject back from out of the blue. Like most kids do.

That was sufficient to bring Santana's whole attention back to her daughter and she looked sideways to face the little girl. "You do? And why's that, baby?" the Latina asked with interest.

Trying to organize her thoughts Zoey looked up before settling her gaze on Santana. "When Grandma Annie taught me that prayer, she said we could ask Jesus things," she said slowly, and paused to think some more. "But it can only be really, really, _really_ important things 'cause, you know, He's really busy," the blue-eyed girl added, bringing a smile to Santana's lips. "So, I asked Him two things and He answered me. So, I believe in Jesus," Zoey concluded with a wide smile, proud that she had managed to explain things right.

"He did, huh?" Santana asked with a grin and raised eyebrow. "And can I ask what you wanted so badly, little Miss?" she added, tickling Zoey briefly and causing little giggles to escape the kid's mouth.

"I asked Jesus to wake you up," Zoey stated simply, smiling wide at Santana who was caught completely and utterly off-guard by her daughters answer. "And a little while after you did," she added proudly to the gobsmacked Latina.

Feeling the tears well up Santana found the strength to softly reply after swallowing hard, "You asked Him that, honey?" To which Zoey nodded her confirmation.

"When we visited you in the hospital at your birthday mommy thought I was sleeping in her arms, but I wasn't and I heard her saying '_God, I wish she was here_'," Zoey said nonchalantly, doing Brittany's voice in a different tone just like the blonde usually did when she read different characters in a book for Zoey. "And I really, really, _really_ wished I could talk to you, too; so, I asked Jesus."

Santana couldn't say anything. She just tightly hugged her oblivious daughter for the longest time. Pulling back she flashed the kid her megawatt smile, for the brunette had no idea she could love a little girl this much.

Wiping a couple of escaping tears, Santana said with a more contained smile, "Thank you, Zo." Zoey didn't really know what her mama was thanking her for, but never being one to turn down an appreciative remark, she smiled back as a 'you're welcome'.

After some more movie watching an afterthought came to the doctor's head, and she asked her daughter, "What was your second wish, mi hija?"

"A puppy, but I didn't get one," Zoey replied flatly without tearing her eyes from Ariel.

"And how come you still believe in Jesus?"

"Because Grandma Annie says Jesus only wants what's best for _all_ people. And Aunt Jenna is 'allegic' to dogs and cats, so I understand why He wouldn't give me one," Zoey explained thoroughly, looking at her mama with a half-smile.

Shaking her head with a smile, Santana said proudly while running her fingers through Zoey's long brown hair, "Have I told you how smart you are, bug?" The compliment brought a full-on smile from Zoey, and mother and daughter got back to Ariel and her shenanigans on screen.

* * *

><p>Brittany stood there smiling like a fool, watching the scene in front of her eyes like it was the most delectable work of art ever created. It pulled on each and every one of her heart's strings to see Santana and Zoey cuddled up underneath a blanket inside of the fort. Both sleeping soundly as Brittany hunched over and stole a peek through the fort's entrance gap. The blonde could even feel tears threatening to cascade down her alabaster face. Again, such scenes would never get old to the dancer. She had wished for them too many times.<p>

Santana felt those eyes on her. She had _always_ been able to feel that pair of gorgeous icy blues. So, maintaining her chocolate browns closed, the Latina whispered carefully not to wake her daughter, "You do realize you look like a creepy stalker, don't you?"

Santana's line startled the blonde a bit and she placed a hand over her heart. "How did you –" Brittany began to say lowly, but was interrupted by the brunette.

"You should know by now that I _always_ know," Santana interjected in a whisper, opening up her eyes for the first time.

"Yeah, but you were sleeping," the blue-eyed dancer softly put it.

"I'm a doctor. I'm always half awake," the Latina quipped, trying to remove Zoey's hand from around her body without waking the little girl. Managing to do so, the brunette crawled out of the fort to properly talk to Brittany.

"So? What can I do for you?" Santana asked softly, rising up to her feet. "But, first, didn't I tell you _not_ to sneak in here?" the doctor added, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow. But unable not to notice how beautiful the blonde looked with the orange firelight hitting her face in trepid waves. And she mentally chastised herself for even going there.

Brittany smiled coyly, and offered simply, "I knocked." She left the 'lightly' part out of it, 'though.

"Well, we do have a doorbell, you know?"

"I didn't want to wake you guys up if you were sleeping," the blonde tried out, gauging Santana's apparent soft face. "Turns out I was right," she added with a charming smile. One that Santana found out she still couldn't quite resist.

Mellowing out, the brunette doctor asked softly, "So, what brings you here, B?"

"I brought Zoey's bathing suit. I remembered I forgot to pack it earlier, and I think you'll find out – if you already haven't – she's set on swimming this weekend," Brittany said, smiling and holding up a small paper gift bag for the Latina to take, which she promptly did.

"Thanks," Santana replied with a small smile, setting the bag aside.

Eyeing the living room's state, Brittany exclaimed with amusement, "Wow, you really went all out here, San!"

"She wanted to camp," Santana said matter-of-factly, and the blonde chuckled as she looked into chocolate eyes.

"Did you… _roast_ s'mores in the fireplace?" the blue-eyed dancer asked playfully, seeing a half-empty bag of marshmallows and some chocolates near the fixture.

"Yes, for dessert." Small pause. "Don't worry, I didn't let her eat too many," the brunette added quickly.

"I'm not complaining," Brittany replied quickly, flashing the Latina a sweet smile to back up her words. "I'm glad she's having a great time." Brief pause. "In fact, I'll make myself one. Do you mind?" the dancer added in question, morphing her sweet smile into one of mischief, and Santana just shrugged her consent before they made their way to the fireplace and took a seat with their legs crossed in front of it.

In silence Santana proceeded to stick a marshmallow on the poker and started to slowly roast it, while Brittany got a couple of crackers and placed a chocolate tablet on top of one of them, holding the other with her free hand. Waiting with a child's grin on her face for the warm roasted marshmallow to make the delicious little sandwich.

"So, how has it been?" Brittany finally asked with interest, looking at the Latina beside her.

"Great," Santana replied, looking back at the dancer and smiling as a reflex. "She's really fantastic," she added with pride, and the blue-eyed woman's smile got broader.

"She is," Brittany couldn't help but confirm out loud, stealing a glance at the fort that enveloped her sleeping daughter. Turning her gaze back to the marshmallow roasting, the blonde added with squinted eyes, "Don't let it burn, San."

"I won't," Santana replied, a bit annoyed while wielding the poker against the fire.

"I don't like it burned."

"I know you don't. Just let me do my thing," Santana said in a huff. Wondering why they still sounded like a fucking old married couple when they clearly were no longer married.

Silence fell upon the two ladies. After a while Santana carefully placed the warm marshmallow on top of the chocolate and Brittany put the other cracker on top of it and slid the little sandwich off.

She took a bite and hummed in appreciation. "It's just perfect, S," the blonde gushed through a mouthful of s'more, and Santana offered her a smug grin before sticking another marshmallow on the poker and starting the whole process all over again.

Before Santana had time to react Brittany was shoving the treat into the brunette's mouth, and she had no other choice but to take a bite out of it. Another old married couple's habit that neither successfully dropped: feeding each other.

Throwing the whole moment to the back burner in an attempt to ignore old feelings, the Latina said, changing the subject as she watched Brittany smile and lick her chocolaty fingers while switching the s'more from one hand to another, "She sang in the bath today."

"Excuse me?" the dancer replied.

"Zoey," Santana clarified with a silly grin on her face. "I stepped out of the bathroom to grab her pj's and when I was coming back I heard her; so, I stopped by the door and just stood there listening to her sing. She didn't see me, but I swear to you that I must have looked like an idiot 'cause I just stood there smiling like a fool. I couldn't help it, 'though, it was just the most adorable thing ever. And I don't even use the word 'adorable'," the Latina added softly.

Brittany grinned foolishly as she got swept away by the same feeling that Santana had just by listening to the brunette's story. "Yeah, she does that," the dancer said in a sweet tone, and they held each other's stare. Brittany couldn't help but notice how gorgeous Santana looked with the firelight hitting her face in unruly angles.

Another silent period of time took over. Santana kept roasting and Brittany finished her s'more, quickly reddening another one, which just waited for the warm white substance to be whole.

"I'll have to go to New York next week," the brunette doctor finally said without tearing her eyes from the roasting marshmallow ahead of her.

"But you said you'd stay," Brittany replied, clearly alarmed and with wide eyes.

"No," Santana amended softly, looking sideways into blue eyes. "I'll be gone for just one week. I scheduled this thing with the Medical Board to renew my license. Richard got me a job here at the hospital."

Brittany sighed heavily with relief, closing her eyes in the process. The Latina really got her scared there. "You scared me, San," opening her eyes, she lightly chastised the brunette. "I'm so glad you got a job," the blonde added, changing her tone to warm and cheery in a blink of an eye, which unwillingly brought a smile to Santana's lips.

"I'll start as soon as I get back from New York."

"Great!" Brittany exclaimed as she received the other done marshmallow in the same fashion as before.

Fidgeting a bit Santana found the courage to ask, looking at Brittany from the corner of her eye while the blonde ate, "So, I was kinda wondering if you, uh, if you still had that woman's number."

"What woman?" the blonde asked with brows furrowed, licking a couple of chocolate-covered fingers.

"You know, that one who always came to those fundraisings you and Quinn used to throw for that Harlem kids' dance program," Santana began saying nonchalantly with extra tact. "Tall, dark hair, green eyes, had that kid with the nose…" she added carefully and slowly, and a light bulb turned on in Brittany's head.

"Evelyn?" Brittany asked, raising an eyebrow with suspicion.

"Yep," Santana replied with a grin. "That's the one alright. What was her last name again?"

"Hearst. Evelyn Hearst," the blue-eyed said, feeling something fishy about this whole questioning thing. "Why? Why would you want Evelyn's phone number?" she added, finishing up her s'more.

Santana doubted if she should tell Brittany the full tale. It seemed kinda weird. But, again, the dancer was the one who preached that they were 'best friends' who could, _and should_, tell each other 'everything'. Plus, there was a part of her that wanted to see Brittany "dance". The Latina had been doing it this whole time, maybe it was time the blonde got a taste of it. No matter how unsavory it was.

So, Santana went ahead with it. Full disclosure. The brunette turned around to be face to face with Brittany, and said with her head held high, "Well, Jimmy already has our nightlife planned down to the smallest details, you know, now that we're both single and free to mingle. But I wanted to have _Evelyn's_…" she stressed out the name, "…number in case, you know, I needed a sure thing."

Brittany couldn't help but gasp, and Santana couldn't lie about loving the dancer's reaction. Shaking her head for longer than necessary, or adequate, Brittany finally managed to curtly say, "_Evelyn_?"

"Yes."

"But she's so… she's so…" Brittany seeded, shaking her head again as she tried to spit it out, "…Snotty, and sketchy, and… _aggressive_," the blonde concluded with scorn all over her tone. "You deserve better, Santana," she added after a beat.

"Well, first two things I don't care about. And last one? _Exactly_ what I need right now," Santana said nonchalantly with a smirk in place. She was enjoying this way too much. "Besides, it's not like I'm marrying the girl," the brunette girl added, and both women knew the hidden implications of that line.

"Still," Brittany replied dejectedly, looking down at her hands as she felt unable to hold the Latina's stare any longer. She was feeling jealous, and she _hated_ that feeling. It came sooner than the blonde had predicted.

"Well, all I know is that I gotta move on. And God knows I won't find anyone here in Hicksville, Ohio," Santana blurted out honestly, letting the poker she had been holding lie on the floor.

Silence fell upon them. An awkward one this time.

"Well, I gotta go. I still have to drop something off at my parents'," Brittany informed, dropping the unpleasant subject while rising to her feet.

"Ok," Santana replied, letting the subject be dropped while getting up as well. "I'll walk you to the door."

Brittany stopped to crawl into the fort to drop a feather goodnight kiss on Zoey's warm cheek, and both women made their way to the front door.

Opening it up, Santana said bitter-sweetly, "Bye, Britts. Drive safely." The buzz she felt moments earlier regarding Brittany's jealousy was coming to its down, and the situation still sucked because she was still in love with someone who also loved her back, but they still couldn't be together for reasons she still couldn't quite grasp – even 'though she was really trying to.

"Bye, San. Sleep well," Brittany replied bitter-sweetly as she stepped outside the door. Brittany felt awful because right there in front of her stood the woman she always have loved, the great love of her life, who she could feel was starting to slip through her hands. And even 'though she wanted to scream and close her hand to prevent that from happening, she still _couldn't_. The situation was still the same. Nothing had changed. And there she stood, scared beyond her means because she couldn't be with Santana, and afraid that the Latina would get lost out there. That Santana would get lost to her.

Santana closed the door behind Brittany, and brought a sleeping Zoey upstairs to her old bed. For the first time since she got back to her parents' house the brunette doctor finally managed to sleep through the whole night. With her daughter breathing evenly and looking like an angel by her side.

* * *

><p><strong>Another long one! Hope you enjoyed it. Reviews are greatly appreciated as usual :D<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Glee _nor its original characters (if I did it would probably be called _The Brittany and Santana Show_, and all the other characters would only be there to help advance their plot).

**A/N: **Here's the new chapter, folks! Sorry for the little delay, you can totally blame it on my friends (even 'though it wasn't that long, come one, the three or four fics I follow take up to months to be updated; so, be appreciative lol).

As always, this chapter goes out to: **New Hampshire Badger, **I don't want it to seem like I have a grudge with criticism. I really appreciate the pointers, even 'though I doubt this story is "big":) Anyhow, allow me to address your concerns. The slow pace of the story, well, I can't actually do anything to change that and I guess you really can't please greeks and trojans. I'm sort of OCD with being thorough, and I have a beef with plot holes and stuff that come out of the blue. So, my anal ways ultimately result to this. As for progression, I get what you're saying and I am sorry to frustrate you, but I like to think that emotional progress is still progress, and this story leans heavily on that. It's a mundane setting and tale, which I happen to love the best (you know, domestic backgrounds, day-to-day occurrences, unreaveling of feelings and emotions...); and because of that not every chapter will have a major event. It's a long story (and to people who are wondering, I estimate something around 25 chapters) and I've got to pace myself. As for the remark about Brittany's parents, I'm sorry, but you're kidding, right? 'Cause, it amuses me to think how that conversation would go. Something along the lines of: "No, my child, you cannot even _consider_ the idea of moving on and trying to find some happiness again. I mean, your wife is in a coma and modern medicine says she won't wake up, but you've got to hold on to her. Just hold tight and sink, _sink_ deep down to the bottom of depression river, even 'though you've got a child to look after and a long life ahead of you. I repeat, do _not_ move on, sweetie." What sort of parents would do that? :( As for Brittany and Jenna's back story and how they came to be together and whatnot, I'll touch those issues at their own time in the future. Things will be clearer, its still very early in the story. Although I must say that this fic is all about Brittany/Santana, you can expect Jenna and interactions between all parts, but it will all be tied up to Brittany and Santana. After all, if Santana is avoiding running into the new wife, I can only assume Jenna is doing the same about the old wife, albeit perhaps for different reasons. Either way, it's awkward. And I will tap deeper into said awkwardness in the future. Last, but not least, I'm not sure exactly what question you were referring to, but I like to elucidate that Santana only felt sorry about her _last_ vicious remark. The bunch of other stuff she said she stands by them; even 'though she's trying to respect Brittany's choices, regarless of understanding them or not. Jeez, I talk too much... Anyways, hope you keep reviewing. All feedback is awesome :)

This chapter is also dedicated to you **ellowyntinuviel, **'cause you may hate me, but I totally digged your review. I think that means I'm a bit dysfunctional ;) And to **Gongo, **'cause I'm a sucker for huge-ass reviews and yours made me quite content :D

**Thanks for all the reviews :) You guys outdone yourselves this time! I completely appreciate the support.  
>Alright, enough with the talking. Enjoy 'Chapter Eight'! It's very, *very* long :D<strong>

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><p><strong>Mischances, Stances and Stolen Glances<br>**_||Chapter Eight||_

Santana shared an amazing weekend with her daughter. Everything went down even more perfect than she had imagined. The little brunette girl also had the best time and only showed sadness when Brittany dropped by to pick her up Sunday evening. Zoey had missed her mommy, but she also didn't feel like parting ways with her mama. Especially since she seemed to have the Latina wrapped around her little finger. The weekend flew by, like all times do when you're enjoying yourself, and there stood Santana on that Monday morning: in front of Brittany's house saying goodbye to the blonde and their lovely daughter.

"But _why_ do you have to go?" Zoey whined a bit, looking up at the Latina who stood beside Brittany as both women leaned slightly against the white picket fence.

"I told you I have to get something in New York so I can work at the hospital here, Z," Santana reasoned softly with her daughter.

"Can't you get it here?" the blue-eyed girl countered, and Brittany smiled at her daughter's stubbornness. It totally reminded her of Santana.

"I can't, sweetie," the Latina replied apologetically, looking at Zoey in the eyes. "But I promise to call you every day before you go to bed so you can tell me _everything_ that happened in your day. How does that sound?" she added, trying to sound excited so Zoey could do the same.

Zoey seemed to be pondering the idea and Brittany and Santana exchanged an amused grin. Their daughter was indeed a character. "Only if you teach me that 'canball' jump," the kid stated wearing a serious face.

Both women laughed out loud at Zoey's misspelling. "Alright, Miss Pierce-Lopez. You drive a hard bargain but I think I can arrange some more _cannonball_ lessons," Santana said in her best mock serious tone as she raised an eyebrow for effect.

"So," the brunette doctor started, shifting her gaze towards Brittany, "I bought a new cell phone this weekend," Santana added, taking the thing out of her leather jacket's inside pocket along with a piece of paper, "Here's –"

Brittany cut her off by saying excitedly, "Oh, take my picture so I can pop in your screen when I call you."

"Are you serious?" Santana asked pointedly, shaking her head. To which the dancer just nodded vehemently.

And Zoey quickly piped in with the same excitement, "I want to be in it, too." _Like mother, like daughter_; the brunette thought with amusement as the kid jumped all over Brittany.

Giving in, Santana said while unlocking her screen, which already was a picture of a grinning bathing-suit-clad Zoey, "Ok, say 'New York rules'," and she took the picture after Zoey actually repeated the ordered words. They all checked the end-result photo with smiles and the Latina quickly set it to Brittany's number.

Putting the device back into her pocket, and still holding the piece of paper, Santana continued saying while the blonde put the kid down, "As I was saying, here is my new number," she handed Brittany the piece of paper, "and the number of the hotel I'll be staying in, you know, in case you need to reach me."

"You won't be staying with Quinn and Rach, or Jimmy?" Brittany inquired absentmindedly as she skimmed through the info on the paper scribbled in the brunette's familiar handwriting.

Zoey started to run across the blonde's small front yard since the conversation took a dull turn to the kid.

"Well, I wouldn't want to, you know, _cramp_ Jimmy's style," Santana replied with a smirk. "And I really can't handle Berry 24/7, I just can't," she added, looking mildly disturbed by the thought.

Getting flashes from their talk in front of the fireplace, which had been plaguing her the whole weekend, Brittany spat out sort of bitterly and with a scoff, "And you wouldn't want the two of them to cramp _your_ style, right?"

The brunette doctor brought her head back a little as she narrowed her eyes slightly to stare at the blonde dancer. She had to admit, Brittany had some nerve. "Maybe," Santana replied with defiance, holding back on her temper. "Why? Something wrong with that?" she added with a smug grin, turning the tables on the blue-eyed woman. A part of the Latina still enjoyed taunting Brittany with jealousy. She couldn't help it.

Thoughts of Santana rolling around with Evelyn entered her mind, and Brittany could feel her cheeks getting heated. She hated feeling jealous, and yet she couldn't do anything to stop it nor to stop the brunette doctor. She had no hold of her, and it pained as much as it annoyed her.

"Not at all," Brittany lied through her teeth with a spiteful tone in her voice, holding Santana's stare uneasily. And she mentally begged the Latina couldn't see the truth written all over her face.

Santana could tell easily that Brittany was lying, but she was enough of a lady not to call the blonde on it. Besides, it could potentially backfire and wind up being just as awkward for her as it would be for the dancer.

"Alright, then," Santana said instead, wearing a smug smile that told the blue-eyed woman the whole tale that she had been found out. You see, if Santana could read Brittany, the blonde could just as well read the Latina.

"You could stay at the duplex, 'though," Brittany said while running a hand through her soft hair, eager to change the subject.

"You didn't sell the apartment?" Santana asked with surprise while looking at Zoey skipping around energetically. She had totally thought the dancer had sold it.

"Of course not," the blue-eyed woman replied just as surprised that the Latina would think such a thing. And then she added, looking at Zoey a few feet away, "Don't climb that, baby." The girl pouted but stopped.

"Well, honestly, I for one don't want to enter that place _ever_ again," Santana stated firmly after a silent beat, wearing her trademark stoic façade but unable to hold the blonde's searching gaze. "I think we should sell it. Jimmy has that realtor friend, I'm sure he can handle the sale for us," the brunette finished with purpose, finally driving chocolate eyes to blue ones.

Brittany was completely taken aback. "Why wouldn't you want to go back there?" the dancer asked softly and weakly, feeling a bit confused and, well, sad with the doctor's coldness. After all, they had spent so many wonderful moments in that duplex. _Oh_, Brittany thought; finally understanding it.

Santana just looked at the blue-eyed woman and that look alone conveyed everything Brittany had just realized. The dancer half-smiled and nodded, making the Latina understand that she had got it.

"I'll arrange everything with Jimmy's friend, and when the sale comes through we split it 50-50," the Latina said, stuffing her hands into her jeans' pockets.

"You paid for more than half," Brittany countered seriously, clearly not willing to take any unfair advantages.

"Barely, but we've never kept score before," Santana replied simply just as quick, holding the blonde's gaze with determination.

"No, we haven't," the blue-eyed woman said softly, flashing the brunette a sweet, knowing smile.

"We're not about to start, are we?" the Latina asked just as softly, matching the dancer's smile.

"No, we aren't," Brittany replied in the same fashion as before, broadening her smile and shaking her head slowly. Clearing her throat to dissipate their moment, she added stuffing her own hands into her jeans, "So, when is you flight?"

"1:15 in the afternoon," Santana said, grinning at Zoey who was just grinning at her from afar.

"From Columbus or Dayton?"

"Dayton."

"I'll drive you," Brittany offered with a smile.

"Thanks, but Maggie's already taking me," Santana replied instantly, her resolve should not be forgotten as tempting as it was. "She has to buy Danny an anniversary gift anyway, and God knows this shithole has only, well, shit," the brunette finished scornfully.

"It's not _that _bad, San," Brittany tried to reason with the brunette, who merely shrugged in response. "So, uh, while you're out, do you want me to water your plants or, I don't know, pick up your mail or something?" the blonde added, changing the subject.

"I'll be gone for a week, B, not a year," Santana replied with an easy chuckle. "Besides, Rosa is starting today, she can do all that stuff," the brunette added offhandedly.

"Right, I forgot she was starting today," the dancer said through a wide smile. "Maybe I'll drop by to say 'hi'. I miss Rosa," she added wistfully, thinking back to simpler times of yore.

"I'm sure she'll love that," the Latina replied genuinely, matching the blue-eyed woman's smile. Looking at her watch, Santana added, "I should probably be going. I still got a few things to pack," and Brittany nodded.

"Zoey, come say bye to your mama," the blonde called out to the playing kid, who came back in a rush, launching herself onto the brunette.

"Whoa, you'll topple me over, kiddo," Santana said through a chuckle, holding on close to their daughter. "So, it's time for me to go, mi hija," she added in slightly rushed tone, face to face with the little girl.

"Already?" Zoey asked with those big blue eyes staring right into the Latina's, and it pulled on the woman's heart like nothing else. Santana felt tongue-tied, so she just swallowed hard and nodded.

"I'll miss you very, _very_ much, baby."

"I'll miss you more."

"Impossible," Santana replied resolutely with a wide smile, kissing the girl's neck and causing a string of giggles from the little one. Brittany couldn't help but grin while Santana put Zoey down.

"So…" the brown-eyed woman began with uncertainty, looking at the blonde.

"So…" Brittany replied in the same tone, and Zoey watched the scene like it was a tennis match, looking from her mama to her mommy. Right then the dancer stepped forward, leaning in to hug Santana, but yet again the Latina outstretched her hand. Brittany looked at the offered hand and then back at the brunette. That time 'though she wasn't about to play along. So, the dancer ignored Santana's hand and flung her arms around the doctor's neck.

The quick movement took Santana by surprise and she felt the warmth from the blonde's body reverberate through her own. Brittany wrapped the petite brunette tightly and said softly in her ear, "Call or text me when you land. So I know you touched down safely."

After a few seconds Santana's limp arms managed to come back to life. She lifted one shy hand and placed it lightly on Brittany's small back. Then the Latina swallowed and replied, "I will."

Pulling back she flashed Brittany a small smile, and she looked down at a smiling Zoey, patting the girl's head. Brittany looked at how the sun hit the perfect tan skin of Santana's face and she couldn't help but notice how gorgeous the brunette was. Wearing nothing but a pair of dark wash skinny jeans, a plain white t-shirt, a fitted black leather jacket and a big turquoise scarf, the Latina looked like she was adorning an Oscar de la Renta gown. That's how ridiculously good she could work a mundane outfit. And it pained the blonde to realize Santana would be hitting the world again, back in the market for anyone smart enough to grab her. _Why life had to be so cruel?_ The blue-eyed woman mused inwardly.

"Send my love to everyone," Brittany said, shaking off her unpleasant thoughts and unable to contain a sigh, to which the Latina nodded.

They said their final goodbyes; Santana got into the Range Rover and went to her parents'.

* * *

><p>Santana walked through the gate at JFK and immediately spotted the petite blonde and brunette smiling at her. She went to them and received a tight hug from both Quinn and Rachel.<p>

"How was your flight?" Rachel asked in her trademark high-pitched tone.

"It was alright," Santana replied offhandedly, clutching her big purse's straps.

"I hope you didn't eat anything on the plane 'cause we were planning on a late lunch before our shopping spree," Quinn stated through an easy smile.

"I didn't, plane food always makes me suspicious, and I'm one step ahead of you. I've already booked us a table at my hotel's restaurant," the brunette doctor replied matter-of-factly.

"You're not staying with us?" Rachel asked with surprise as they finally started walking to grab the Latina's luggage.

"No, I am not," Santana replied ceremoniously and in a weird theatrical tone. "I plan on getting me some sexy times this week, and I can't do that with you guys in the room, if you know what I mean," she added with a smirk and wink.

Quinn and Rachel exchanged a look as Santana watched attentively the luggage carousel.

"Are you sure you're ready for that, San?" Quinn asked with concern.

"Absolutely," Santana quickly and curtly put it to disguise her sheer uncertainty. From the look in her eyes you got a pretty good idea that she did not want to discuss the topic. "In fact, Jimmy already planned our nightlife while I'm here," she finished.

"Of course he did," Rachel piped in, crossing her arms across her chest. The Latina just glared at her from the corner of her eye.

They watched the luggage carousel in silence for a little while.

And then Rachel blurted out, "But what about Brittany?"

The brunette doctor couldn't believe what her ears were hearing. "Excuse me, Hobbit?" she asked indignantly, 'cause she was positive that she had misheard the petite brunette.

"I said, what about Brittany?" Rachel found the courage to repeat her question, looking Santana in the eye.

"Rach, it's not our place," Quinn scolded her wife whilst showering her with a death glare. They had agreed not to meddle and now the brunette was doing just so.

"It's ok, Q," Santana stated surprisingly calm, placing a hand on her blonde friend's forearm while looking at her. Then she shifted her cunning gaze to Rachel and said in the same tone, "Well, _Brittany_ is no longer my wife. See?" the Latina rhetorically asked, raising her left hand that was wedding band-less. "In fact, she's got a whole new wife. What do you want me to do? Join a convent? I _have_ to move on, ok? For Christ's sakes, it's been almost four years since I last got some!"

The three of them took in everything that had been said. _Where the fuck is the luggage?_ The brunette doctor wondered.

Not having enough, Rachel said in a huff, "I thought you'd fight for her."

"Rachel!" Quinn admonished sternly. Her wife was out of control.

Looking Rachel in the eye, the Latina said honestly, "I know a losing battle when I see one. You both know Brittany," came her remark full of meaning, and all three got it. After a beat she added, "Besides, I have a daughter now. I can't just stir shit and wreak havoc. Brittany made her choice, now we both will have to deal with the consequences."

The three of them exchanged tense-filled looks, but also understanding looks. Santana spotted her luggage, which was way big for a week stay, and she made her way to get it. Quinn took the opportunity to scowl openly at her wife, who just shrugged in response. Rachel was concerned, she had to say something. Despite herself.

Santana came back rolling her bags. Quinn took the opportunity to lighten the mood by changing the subject to a topic she knew could bring any spirit up, "So, how is our goddaughter?" she asked beaming, and grabbing one bag from Santana's hold.

They started walking towards the exit while Santana said with a grin, "As perfect as ever. She sent you both drawings and asked me to tell you that she, and I quote, 'misses you lots, and lots, and lots, and _lots_'." The three women laughed out loud. Then Santana added, "Brittany sent her love as well," and she pulled her cell out to send a quick text to the blonde. She had promised, after all.

_To: Brittany  
><em>_Just landed in NYC. Am well and alive, just so you know._

Seconds later the reply came and Santana slid to read it.

_From: Brittany  
><em>_Glad to hear it! :) Zoey and I miss you already :(_

Reaching the street outside Santana exclaimed, taking in a deep breath, "Ah, New York's polluted air! How I've missed you." Quinn and Rachel just smiled at their friend's antics whilst they hailed a cab.

* * *

><p>Santana quickly checked into her hotel, and the ladies were just about finishing their dessert after a fun and delicious lunch.<p>

"I hate to eat and leave, but I really must get to rehearsal," Rachel said after wiping her mouth gently and placing the linen napkin on the table. "You're going to the show tomorrow, right?" she added, looking at Santana.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Santana replied with more than a hint of lightheartedly sarcasm, earning an eye-roll from the theater woman.

"You get this, honey?" Rachel asked whilst standing up, looking at her wife.

Before Quinn could answer Santana interjected, "I've got this."

"No way," the hazel-eyed blonde protested, looking from her wife to her friend.

"Way," the Latina joked with a smile. "And don't even bother fighting me, Fabray. You know I always wind up kicking your sorry ass," she added with a smug look on her face.

"In your dreams, Lopez," Quinn replied midst a sly smile.

"As much as I love to watch you two bicker, I really have to go. Honey, I see you back home, and Santana, I see you tomorrow."

"Hey, Berry," Santana called out to Rachel who had started walking towards the door and came to a halt to look back. "Break a leg," the brunette doctor added with an innocent smile.

"Aww, that's got to be one of the nicest things you've ever said to me, Santana," Rachel replied, touching her heart for emphasis. You could take the girl out of the theater, but you could never take the theater out of the girl.

"Literally," the Latina amended, morphing her innocent smile into a smug one and receiving a playful smack from Quinn.

Rachel huffed and from the distance narrowed her eyes at Santana. Then she resumed her walk out.

"Aww, I was kidding, Berry," Santana started, unable to muffle a laugh. "Come on, don't be like this," she added with mischief, and Rachel turned around one last time to playfully look at the doctor with exaggerated mock disdain before leaving the restaurant.

Quinn and Santana laughed at their own collective antics.

"So, are you ready for our retail therapy?" Quinn asked, taking a sip of her espresso.

"Oh, God! More than you can imagine. Seriously, how did _I_ get stuck in Lima, Ohio, of all places? There's nothing decent in that shithole! I must be paying for my sins. It's got be it."

"Lord knows you have plenty of those."

"Hey!"

"Anyways, when are your medical practicals?" the blonde asked midst a smile while Santana ate a spoonful of chocolate soufflé.

"Every morning from tomorrow until Thursday," Santana replied matter-of-factly.

"Are you nervous?" Quinn asked with interest, taking a bite of her petit gateau.

"Not really," the brunette plastic surgeon said dismissively and the blond nodded.

"Are Jimmy and you out to party tonight?"

"No, not today. Today I just want to rest after our _therapy_ session. I'll meet him tomorrow for lunch 'though, after I'm done with the board. And later I'll visit everyone at the practice, you know, before the four of us go out for some _dinner and theater_," Santana replied, using Jimmy's British accent to say that last bit.

"Let's see if it's really the _four_ of us. I hope Rachel can make it, she's been really busy lately," Quinn replied, trying to smile but Santana could see that it didn't reach her hazel eyes.

"Oh, oh, trouble in midget paradise?" the Latina playfully asked, trying to lighten up the mood as she put her espresso cup down.

"No, I've just been missing her lately, that's all," the blonde put it in a very blasé way.

"Are you sure?" Santana pressed and Quinn nodded her confirmation. The brunette doctor decided not to press, after all, she hated when people did that to her. If the blonde wanted to talk she would be there, more than ready.

"So? Ready to hit some boutiques?" Quinn asked with excitement.

"Not 'some'. _All_ of them," Santana replied eagerly with a devilish grin.

"You so wants to getz your shopping on," the hazel-eyed woman teased the brunette with a smug grin.

"I'm never gonna live that down, will I?" the doctor said with playful frustrated resignation. "Even if I haven't spoken like that since… I don't know… _high school_." Quinn merely shook her head. "Well, you better watch it, Fabray; I still got plenty razorblades in my hair and I _will_ cut you, bitch," she threatened lightheartedly.

Quinn shook her head again with a laugh and let out condescendingly, "Maybe it's time you drop the razorblades talk, too, you know?"

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><p>Santana and Quinn perused the umpteenth boutique with many, many bags in hand.<p>

"You _have_ to buy this, S," Quinn stated, holding up a fancy red top.

Santana looked at it and brushed her fingers against the material while the blonde held it. Then she asked, "Don't you think there's too much cleavage?"

Both women looked at one another and burst out laughing. Yeah, right, like there was such a thing as _too much cleavage_!

"Totally buying it," the Latina said after a beat, taking the item from Quinn's hand.

"So," the hazel-eyed woman started with caution, "how was your reconciliation talk with Britt?" she finished with a more assertive tone.

Santana looked sideways at her friend with suspicion, and then she replied dryly, "We've talked several times on the phone after that and you wait until we're face to face to ask me? Are you trying to corner me, Fabray?"

"No?" Quinn answers weakly. "No," the blonde added, changing her intonation. "I just want to make sure you're ok, San," she finishes sincerely, smiling softly at the brunette.

Giving in after a few seconds the Latina said softly, "We both said we were sorry and that was that."

"What exactly did you say to her, Santana?" Quinn asked, and then quickly added to buff her previous question, "Here, this overcoat is cute. You should try it, too." Upon receiving a scowl from her friend the blonde amended, "What? I need to know the details if I'm going to help you here."

"No one asked for your help," Santana snapped whilst taking the overcoat from the rack, and received an unimpressed glare from Quinn. "Fine, I told her that I shouldn't be surprised she wouldn't ditch her _wife_ since she couldn't do it to a _boyfriend_ in high school," the brunette doctor relayed and Quinn listened attentively. "And then I added, 'no, wait, unless your wife'…" the Latina mumbled her speech, rendering it impossible for the blonde to hear it.

"Unless your wife what?" Quinn asked in confusion, furrowing her brows. "Speak up this time, Santana."

Santana gritted her teeth and sighed in frustration, but then she said loud and clear, "I said, 'unless your wife is stuck defenseless in a hospital bed'. And like it wasn't enough, I added that I guessed that was where she drew the line," she finished with embarrassment.

Quinn's eyes went wide. "You didn't."

"I did. And that was when she slapped me in the face."

"She didn't."

"She did."

Shaking her head the blonde raised a hand to cover her mouth, and then she said softly, "Wow, it was ugly," and the Latina nodded, inspecting a pair of nude pumps, which she also picked up.

Santana sighed again and said sincerely, "I just feel like Rip Van Fucking Winkle stuck in a shitty Twilight Zone episode here. Everything is different and while everybody had four years to get used to everything I still feel like I'm stuck in 2007. I'm just doing my best here, you know?"

"I know, San. I know," Quinn said softly, placing a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder. "But you should know that Brittany didn't just up and moved on. Trust me, I was there. And there were a few, uh, _occasions_ back then…" the hazel-eyed woman added gloomily, thinking back to those dark days and the Latina felt scared by the somber look that crossed her friend's eyes, "…that really scared me. Well, it's not my place to say anything further than that, but just ask Britt for the dvd of Zoey's birth that I shot. You'll get an idea of what I mean," Quinn finished in almost a whisper.

"What _occasions_, Quinn?" Santana asked with a bad feeling in her stomach.

"Really, San, it's not my place," Quinn pleaded with serious eyes and she could see that Santana would drop the questioning. "Listen, I can't even _begin_ to fathom how hard this must be for you, but just try to walk in Brittany's shoes for a bit. See her side of things."

"Well, my own shoes already give me too many blisters, thank you very much," the brunette quipped with exasperation.

"Just bear in mind that B is just as moral as you are loyal," the petite blonde replied sweetly, trying to offer some insight that she knew the Latina already possessed, but perhaps forgot.

Santana took in her words and said playfully after a beat, "Complimenting me doesn't become you, Fabray," and the doctor smiled widely.

"Screw you, Satan," Quinn shot back, unable to contain a grin. "Besides, you didn't let me finish. I was saying B is just as moral as you are loyal _and stubborn_."

"Now, _that's_ more likely," Santana said through a smug grin, and then she changed the subject, "Ok, let's pay for these and do some shopping for my beautiful daughter. It's a pain to always carry a duffel bag from Britt's to my place anytime the kid stays with me. She has to have a wardrobe at my parents'. Have I told you I'll be making a room for her there?"

"Only ten times," Quinn teased her friend. "But, seriously Santana, my fingers are starting to turn blue from all these bags."

"Well, until they turn black or fall off you're fine, Q," Santana teased the blonde back.

* * *

><p>Santana lay idly in bed watching the New York City evening landscape through her hotel suite's floor to ceiling glass wall. The feel of the hotel's fluffy white bathrobe against her skin made her relax. Looking at the clock on her nightstand she decided it was time to call her daughter, it was time to call Zoey. And the thought alone was enough to bring a smile to the Latina's face.<p>

Grabbing her cell phone from the nightstand she unlocked the screen and touched it a couple of times to make the call to Brittany's cell phone. After three rings the blonde picked up.

"Hey, San!" Brittany said with enthusiasm as she stood behind her kitchen's small island.

"Is that mama?" Zoey almost shrieked from the dinner table in front of the island, to which the blonde dancer just nodded in confirmation. Jenna sat beside the little girl.

"How is New York so far?" the blue-eyed woman added in question while Zoey stood up from the table with incredible velocity.

"Oh, you know, it's been its usual amazing self," Santana quipped lightly, causing the blonde to smile. "Can I speak to Zoey?" she added quickly and Brittany couldn't help but feel a bit snubbed.

Zoey was already tugging on Brittany's arm, the one that held the device. "Well, good to know," she said to the Latina, and then turned her look down to their daughter, "One second honey, be patient," the blonde said softly to the kid. "San, I'll put her through, ok?" the blue-eyed woman finished, passing the cell to Zoey.

Jenna watched the scene with less enthusiasm than the other two ladies.

"Hey, mama!" Zoey almost screamed through the speaker and Santana winced a bit with a grin on her face on the other side of the line.

"Not so loud, sweetie," Brittany, who was attentively watching their conversation from Zoey's side, told her daughter and the Latina heard it as well.

"Hi, baby," the doctor said in a sweet tone. "How are you?"

"Good, I miss you already," Zoey stated and Santana could even visualize the pout.

"I miss you too, Z, but I'll be back in a flash, you'll see," the Latina replied, feeling her heart swell a bit. "So, how was your day today? How was school?"

"It was fun, Grace and 'me' started to dig a hole in the playground 'cause her big brother told her that if you dig deep enough you find China. I don't know what that is, but Grace said he told her is a cool city," Zoey started to babble and Santana and Brittany laughed at the same time. "We haven't found it yet, but we'll keep digging tomorrow. And Troy Adams peed his pants. Russ made fun of him and everyone started laughing too, but Miss Miller said it wasn't nice to laugh at your friends. So, everyone stopped. I 'drawed' a flower, and you and 'me' swimming in your pool. And that's all," she finished with a wide grin, finally catching a breath.

"Wow! Sounds like you had a busy day, kiddo," Santana told her, shifting a bit to readjust her stack of pillows. Zoey hummed her confirmation.

"When are you coming back, mama?" the blue-eyed girl asked softly, and Brittany couldn't help but run a hand through her daughter's silky brown hair with empathy.

"Just a few more days, Z," the Latina said softly. "Aunts Quinn and Man-hands sent you a big kiss," she added lightly, trying to cheer up the little girl.

"Who's Aunt Man-hands?" Zoey asked with curiosity, and Santana heard Brittany's voice loud and clear as the blonde scolded her, "Santana!" And then she heard the dancer tell their daughter, "It's Aunt Rachel, honey. Don't listen to your mama." The Latina couldn't help but snicker at that, and Jenna just shook her head getting back to her sandwich.

"Did you give them my drawings?" the kid asked, quickly ignoring the whole situation.

"I did, and they _loved_ it. They said they were so pretty that they would put them on the fridge's door, just like I did with some you gave me in the hospital."

Zoey beamed with pride. She loved her praises. The kid looked up and saw that her mommy wanted the phone.

"Mommy wants to speak to you. I love you mama!"

"I love you more, baby! Sweet dreams, ok?"

Taking the cell from her daughter Brittany told the little girl, "Finish your dinner, baby." And then she asked Santana with a smile, "How was the reunion with Q and Rach?"

"Fun," Santana said shortly. "I kinda missed them," she added softly in an unforeseen moment of openness with the dancer. _Crap, she couldn't help it_; the brunette doctor thought.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Brittany replied just as softly. She missed their friends too... Very often. After a beat she added less somberly, "Are you doing something tonight?" _God, why did she have to care so, so much?_ The blonde mused. And Jenna's ears subtly picked up on the conversation.

"Nah, today I'll just stay at the hotel to rest," the Latina informed. It felt so natural to talk to the blonde. She couldn't help it. "Tomorrow night the four of us will be getting dinner and going to see Dwarf's play, 'though," she added flatly, playing with the tv's remote control with her free hand.

"Hmm, sounds nice," the blue-eyed woman replied softly and bitter-sweetly. Once upon a time it was always the five of them. Or six, if Jimmy happened to bring one of his random dates.

"But after tomorrow it will be all party, sister," Santana informed playfully and teasingly. "You _still_ won't give me that woman's phone, huh?" the Latina added with a smirk. "What's her name again? God, I always forget it," she said, mentally giving her own head a slap.

"Evelyn," Brittany replied, rolling her eyes. And then dropping her voice she added, "And no, I won't give you her number. You deserve better."

"Hmm, whispering now, aren't we?" the brown-eyed woman said, raising an eyebrow. "Ah," she added tauntingly, "…is _wifey_ around? I bet she is, huh? What? Scared she will get the wrong idea? I mean, I would if _my_ wife started cockblocking her _ex_. So, give me that number, Britt," Santana finished with a smug look on her face while the blonde rolled her eyes. Santana could be so annoying._ Especially when she was right_, her brain added, but the blonde shut down the idea.

"You can try all the _wrong_, low blows you wish Santana, but _as a friend_ I cannot give you _Evelyn Hearst_'s phone number," Brittany replied lowly trying to sound stern, but failing at it. Her low tone also betrayed her.

…

"_Evelyn. Evelyn Hearst," the lean brunette in a maroon gown said huskily._

"_Right, Evelyn. I'm terrible with names, but I swear I had yours at the tip of my tongue," Santana quipped with a forced smile, lying through her teeth. She didn't remember the woman's name at all, and she had been extremely distracted by the hot looks Brittany was showering her with from the distance right above Evelyn's right shoulder._

"_As I was saying I love his gowns as well. I myself own at least three by him. I mean, look at you! The design hugs your perfect body in all the right places," Evelyn subtly replied, plastering a sultry smile on her face. Santana tore her gaze from Brittany a little and caught sight of Rachel beckoning her over. Shit, the Latina thought._

"_I hate to leave…" Santana began to say, wrecking her brain to recall the green-eyed woman's name, "…Evelyn," the Latina thanked the gods, "but my annoying friend is calling me. I'd love to ignore her, but I stupidly made eye-contact and now it's too late. Will you excuse me?" the doctor politely said, and Evelyn sadly nodded._

"_What Berry?" Santana asked curtly, catching Brittany's eye from the distance yet again, which brought a smile to her earlier scowl._

"_Oh, Santana! I wanted to introduce you to my theater friend, Gary Jenkins," Rachel said in her usual chipper tone, with a wide grin on her face._

"_That's it?" Santana replied dismissively and Rachel nodded._

"_Well, nice to meet you Gary," the Latina said briefly, and then she added, "I'll go talk to Britt, excuse me." Seriously, was she surrounded by tools? The doctor wondered._

_From the corner of her eye she saw that Brittany was still talking to a couple. Probably schmoozing like there was no tomorrow. She didn't know how her wife could do it. Santana could never blow smoke up anyone's ass. However, she knew that Brittany did it for the kids; it wasn't like the dancer loved the thing. Spotting a waiter bearing champagne, she walked his way in her sexy strapless black gown and snatched a flute. Then she slowly made her way to the ballroom's giant glass wall and began to study the night skyline._

_After quickly finishing her flute, she felt a pair of soft arms wrap around her waist, and a chin touch her shoulder. She smiled at the contact, enveloping the other person's arms with hers._

"_Tired of kissing self-righteous, snobby asses?" Santana playfully asked, turning around to face her wife and being met with a drown-out kiss._

"_Ah, you know I never get tired of kissing your ass, babe. Literally," Brittany quipped back with a smirk on her face, making the Latina grin. The blue-eyed woman was wearing a beautiful one-shoulder emerald green silk gown._

"_I don't know how you and Quinn can stomach it," the brunette stated, placing the empty flute on a passing waiter's tray. _

"_For the kids, babe."_

_Santana flashed her a smile. She knew the blonde well. "Yeah, that's what I figured."_

_Evelyn approached the two women with a wide smile._

"_Santana," she greeted with enthusiasm, and then she looked at the blonde and added, "…and Brittany. Lovely event you've got here. Like I was telling Santana earlier, we can never give enough for the kids' dance program. Right, Santana?" Evelyn finished with a grin, resting her heavy gaze on the Latina._

"_Right, uh…" Santana began to say awkwardly and mentally cursed her mind for never committing the woman's name._

"_Evelyn," Brittany came to the rescue and added with grace despite the fact that the tall brunette was practically eating her wife with those green eyes, "thank you so much for the donation. We can always count on your generosity."_

"_Oh, don't even mention it," the green-eyed woman replied dismissively with an affected wave of hand. "You know, Santana, my friend Melanie Hendricks was talking about you the other day. She's extremely happy with the work you've done on her breast implants," the woman added whilst completely exposing her extra-white perfect teeth, focusing entirely on the plastic surgeon who felt confused by her wife taking hold of her hand in a weird brusque way._

"_Oh, yeah, I remember Mrs. Hendricks. I'm glad she enjoyed the results," the Latina replied with a genuine smile._

"_Enjoyed?" Evelyn scoffed with a laugh. "The woman was downright ecstatic! She says you have the magic touch," she added, and Brittany couldn't believe this woman. Flirting this openly with her wife right in front of her._

"_I don't know about that. The secret is you can't overdo, you have to respect the body's proportion and nature. Otherwise it simply does not work," Santana explained with ease, she really did love her job. Bring more beauty into the world and make people love themselves more totally fulfilled her._

"_Don't be so modest," Evelyn said promptly._

_Brittany snickered a bit. None of the other women noticed, 'though. Yeah, right, 'modest' Santana; the blonde thought._

"_After looking at you I can tell you've definitely got a magic touch," the green-eyed woman continued in a husk tone, making Brittany's blue eyes grow as big as saucers._

_Clearing her throat, Brittany stated dryly whilst clutching to Santana's hand, "Aww, I love this song. I'm sorry, Evelyn, but if you excuse us I'll take my wife for a dance. What do you say, babe?"_

"_Sure," Santana replied with a big genuine smile, still a little puzzled by the look her wife was giving her._

_Evelyn wore a dissatisfied look on her face as she watched the blonde dancer guiding the brunette plastic surgeon by the hand towards the dance floor. They quickly started swaying to the live band. Brittany had her arms around Santana's neck, and the Latina had hers wrapped around the blonde's waist._

"_What?" Santana asked with curiosity, taking in her wife's weird gaze on her._

"_Nothing," Brittany dismissed it, leaning in closer to nuzzle the doctor's neck._

_After a while the dancer pulled back again and weirdly stared at the brunette once more._

"_What?" the Latina reiterated her question, sounding extra confused with a raised eyebrow._

_It took a while for Brittany's answer to come and she stated again, "Nothing." Before Santana could protest, 'though, she felt the blonde kissing her with passion._

_Later that night, back at their duplex apartment, the ladies got ready for bed._

"_I mean, can you believe the nerve of that woman?" Brittany asked, flabbergasted, stepping out of her gown while both women stood in front of their large bathroom mirror._

"_I really don't think she was flirting with me, B," Santana countered, leaning forward against their double sink vanity while removing the remaining of her make-up in nothing but her black lace panties and bra._

"_Please," the blonde scoffed, standing in front of her raised white sink in nude panties and bra. "She was eating you with her eyes, and 'oh, Santana, looking at you I can definitely see you have an amazing touch'," the blonde added while turning to her wife, adjusting her voice to sound like the green-eyed woman. Santana smiled wide, "It's not funny," the dancer chastised._

"_Well, I think it is, babe. You're jealous, it's funny," Santana stated through a smirk, looking sideways at the blonde. "Especially since I can't even remember the woman's name," she paused a bit, "Not even now." Then she went back to make-up removal, and said playfully, "Oh, and it's 'magic touch', not 'amazing touch'. Just to be thorough," the Latina grinned with a tinge of satisfaction._

"_If she was saying those things in front of me I wonder what scandalous propositions she was making when I saw you two talking alone," Brittany said in an outraged voice while putting her hair up in a bun, and redirecting her gaze to look at her wife through their wide shared mirror._

"_She just said nice things about the dance program and asked me who I was wearing, there were no scandalous propositions," Santana quickly dismissed it, locking eyes with the blue-eyed woman on the mirror._

"_Yeah, I can only imagine," Brittany said ironically._

"_Don't you trust my word?" Santana countered lightheartedly and yet seriously._

"_Of course I do," the blue-eyed dancer replied, turning to look at her wife without a proxy, and then she added with a sneer, "It's her I don't trust a bit."_

_The Latina dropped the cotton ball she was using to remove her make-up and went closer to her wife, wearing a no-good smile on her face._

"_Well, there's no need for jealousy," the plastic surgeon barely whispered huskily, taking the dancer's left hand in hers and placing on her bare caramel shoulder. Brittany felt a powerful wave of tingles running through her body. Inching even closer, stomach against stomach, she hovered her head above milky shoulder blade and said into the blonde's ear, "'Cause nothing happened and never will happen. Can't you see?" Santana pulled back to meet blue eyes full-on, "You're the only one I want," the Latina added with a sweet sincere smile._

_Brittany didn't know what had turned her on more: her wife's perfect words or her wife's perfect body combined with her smooth attitude. All she knew was that she was totally turned on._

_Cupping Santana's cheek she started kissing her wife. Slowly for mere seconds, and passionately from then on. The Latina's hands found her waist, and hers found those dark soft locks, pressing against her neck to intensify the smoldering kiss. Brittany felt good to know that 'all that' belonged to her, and no one else. And vice-versa. She was all Santana's. Proudly so. That thought only enhanced the wetness between her legs. Suddenly the dancer grabbed Santana's thighs and brought the petite brunette up against her body, kissing her fiercely and with everything she got. With one swift movement the blonde placed the doctor on the cold surface of their vanity without parting their lips. The Latina yelped with both pleasure at the brusque action and shock from the cold material against her bare skin. Mid kiss Brittany pulled back abruptly, leaving Santana with puckered up and swollen red lips mourning the contact. The brunette looked at the blonde with inquisitive eyes._

"_I'm taking a shower, babe," Brittany informed mischievously with a sly grin on her face, still holding Santana's hand whilst both of their arms remained outstretched by the small distance._

"_Right now?" the Latina asked with wide eyes, baffled, to which the blue-eyed woman just nodded playfully and teasingly._

_Brittany let go of Santana's hand. Then she turned around and seductively unhooked her strapless bra, letting it fall to the bathroom floor tiles. Santana couldn't help but stare at that perfect milky back, letting her eyes fall on those five freckles she had come to know better than any constellation up in the sky._

"_You better join me," Brittany huskily demanded with a smirk, stealing a quick glance over her right shoulder whilst approaching the glass shower doors, pleased to assess her wife's 'state'._

"_But I just took one, babe," the brunette countered with a hint of annoyance._

_The dancer didn't even respond, she just slipped out of her nude panties and entered the shower, turning it on. Seconds later Brittany could feel a pair of tanned hands around her waist and an eager mouth on the back of her neck. The blonde just grinned wider and turned around to her gorgeous wife._

…

"Fine, if that's how you want to play I'll just ask Quinn," Santana said with a hint of satisfaction.

"You wouldn't!" Brittany reproached with as much surprise as suspicion.

"You _know_ I would, and I _am_," the Latina stated defiantly with a smirk. "As lovely as this little chat has been I have to go to sleep now, Brittany. Medical board tomorrow morning," she added.

"Well, good luck," the dancer said sincerely, "I'm sure you won't need it, 'though," she added with a sweet smile, letting the other subject drop.

"Thanks, Britt. I gotta go. Bye."

"Bye, San."

They ended the call and Brittany felt… weird. Too many different emotions together. Zoey had just finished dinner.

"Go brush your teeth, baby," the blue-eyed woman said to her daughter, who got up and went to do what she was told.

Jenna was looking at her wife, and then she got up from the table with her empty plate in hand and made her way to the blue-eyed blonde.

"So, what was that all about?" the green-eyed woman asked offhandedly.

Brittany shrugged and replied nonchalantly, "Oh, nothing; Santana just wanted a phone number."

"And you didn't have it?" Jenna asked, passing her wife by to put the plate into the sink.

"I do, but I didn't want to give it to her," the dancer said honestly, turning around to face the smaller blonde.

"Why not?" Jenna asked curiously, furrowing her brows.

"Because that woman is totally wrong for her. She deserves better," Brittany replied matter-of-factly.

"Oh, it's a woman then?" Jenna asked, feeling a subconscious glint of happiness about the information. The blue-eyed dancer nodded in confirmation. "And why is she wrong for Santana?"

"Well, she's snotty for one," the taller blonde offered quickly with a sneer. "And self-entitled, bitchy, aggressive... To name a few."

Jenna absorbed the information for a while and then she replied, trying to be helpful while walking closer to her wife, "What about Paula? We could set something up."

Brittany laughed a little, shaking her head while she stated, "Uh, not Santana's type. I mean, San has a… how can I put it? A _shallow_ side to her, if you know what I mean."

Jenna nodded, and tried once more, "What about Sara, then?"

Brittany thought back to Sara. Yeah, she was attractive, and that fact didn't sit well with the dancer. So, she replied nonchalantly, shaking her head again, "Nah, too…" she thought trying to find something wrong, "…too shady."

"Shady?" the green-eyed woman asked, doubtful, to which the taller blonde just nodded. "Uh huh… What about Deb, then? What's wrong with her?" she added with a tinge of annoyance.

Brittany thought for a while and said quickly, "She's just…" the dancer pondered but couldn't find anything, so she just added, "…too" and then she simply emitted a weird sound to substitute an actual word.

Jenna just shook her head in disbelief and stated in a huff, "Well, there aren't much more options around here, Brittany. I mean, who is good enough for Santana? Should we try to contact, I don't know, _Kate Middleton_?"

"Too princess-y," Brittany deadpanned after a silent beat in typical Brittany style while shaking her head. Jenna couldn't help but flash her wife the tiniest of smiles.

"What about _you_ then?" Jenna dropped the smile and mustered up the courage to ask in earnest, looking straight into blue eyes. "Because I'm afraid that's the only person you'll find suitable."

Brittany was taken aback by her wife's words, but truth was she didn't want to think about them. "I'm married," she stated with a small smile. "To you," she finished with conviction.

Cupping the taller blonde's cheek Jenna said softly, "You know she is going to find someone eventually, don't you?"

"I do," Brittany replied, trying to conceal her sad tone while placing her hand over her wife's.

"Do you have a problem with that?" Jenna asked through a whisper. She was trying hard to be patient and understanding. The green-eyed woman understood the difficult position everyone in their complicated situation found themselves in, which didn't mean she didn't feel highly anxious, threatened and uneasy. She wanted to come out and ask her wife '_Do you still love her?_' but she feared the answer too much to utter those words out loud. Ignorance was bliss.

Brittany didn't want to lie to her wife, but she didn't want to hurt her either. This whole thing was so messed up. So, the blue-eyed woman settled for answering, "It's really not my place to."

Jenna accepted her wife's answer and leaned forward to kiss her softly on the lips. After pulling apart the petite green-eyed blonde stated, "I'll put Zoey in bed, you start with the dishes and I'll come back to help after."

Brittany nodded with a smile and Jenna disappeared through the hallway. Starting off on the dishes the blue-eyed woman's mind couldn't stop turning its wheels.

* * *

><p>Annie Pierce walked through the upstairs' floor on her way to the kitchen for a glass of water. Passing by Brittany's old room she heard a tiny noise coming from the inside. The older woman decided to investigate the source of said noise, and gently pushed the door open, revealing a familiar body lying on the bed.<p>

Inching closer in the dark Annie slowly took a seat at her daughter's bedside, instantly noting that the dancer was crying.

"Brittany, honey, what are you doing here?" Annie asked with concern, stealing a glance at the bedside clock that read 3:04 AM. "What happened? Is something wrong? Where is Zoey?" the older woman added curiously, placing a gentle hand on her daughter's midsection.

Brittany just lay there on her side with knees tucked close to her abdomen, letting the cascade of tears run down her hot pink cheeks to land on the decorative pillow.

Tired of waiting for an answer and growing increasingly worried, Mrs. Pierce asked again, "Britt, please, what's wrong, baby? You're scaring me. Did something happen to Zoey?"

Brittany shook her head 'no' and Annie felt a bit of relief. The older woman waited patiently for her daughter to talk to her and provide some insight. After a couple of minutes of rubbing comforting circles on the dancer's side it finally came.

"Zoey is back home. Jenna's there," it came absentmindedly in a low tone of voice. "She doesn't know I snuck out… Jenna." Small pause. "I… I needed to be here. Things… uh, things were so much simpler when this was my bedroom. When this was my bed. I wish I could go back," the young blonde finished dejectedly.

Annie looked sideways at her daughter, still rubbing the latter's side absentmindedly, and she could guess what was on her mind. Her heart ached for Brittany. Mrs. Pierce just sat there listening; she also could guess her daughter needed that at that moment.

After a moment Brittany added barely above a whisper, "Santana went to New York." It came as a sad, ominous statement, which wasn't exactly her intention. A long pause followed, and it was broken when she said, "She's moving on, mom. It scares me, and it hurts… I'm jealous, and I have no right to be. I've got all these feelings inside… and I don't, I don't know how to make sense of everything, and there's nothing I can do about it. I'm just so overwhelmed."

"Oh, sweetie," Annie said softly in her best comforting tone, caressing her daughter's tear-stained cheek. It killed Mrs. Pierce to watch her first born in that state. Brittany was always such a happy person. Sadness really didn't become her, it was simply unnatural.

"I don't want to hurt anybody, mom…" Brittany stated in utter honesty, looking at her mother in the eye through the darkness for the first time, "…but I don't know what to do. I don't know if I'm strong enough to do… to do what I _have_ to do. But I _need_ to be," the dancer added in desolation. "What should I do, mom? Please tell me what to do," Brittany finished in a pleading tone.

"I can't tell you what to do, sweetie," Annie replied softly. She wanted nothing but to help her daughter, to make it all magically okay, but this was something the older woman couldn't do at the moment. This was a situation Brittany had to figure out for herself. "You are the only one who can answer that question."

"Santana is… she is," Brittany started full of emotion, facing away from Annie a bit, "…_Santana_," the dancer added with adoration and love, unable to keep a foolish smile off her features, and her mother knew what she was talking about. She had never seen two people so _different_, and yet so _right_ for one another. "But Jenna," the younger blonde added, noticeably shifting her demeanor, "…Jenna was so good to me. She put up with so much… I can't, I just can't..." she could not finish the sentence. "I don't want to hurt anybody, you know?" the blue-eyed dancer repeated her earlier statement, and it broke her mother's heart even further. Her daughter was just so… decent.

Caressing her daughter's soft blonde hair with adoration, Annie stated while nodding, "You are so sweet and nice, my Brittany." Short pause. "Perhaps _too_ sweet and nice for this world," Mrs. Pierce added wisely and full of meaning.

"Don't worry too much, sweetie. Things like these have a way of sorting themselves out," the older woman added, laying a kiss on her daughter's temple. "Just know that your dad and I will support you no matter what you decide to do. One hundred percent," Annie added, locking eyes with Brittany to convey her message; successfully bringing out a small smile from her daughter, who was thankful to have such wonderful parents. "Now, please, stop crying and come with me to the kitchen. I'll make you some hot cocoa."

* * *

><p>Santana and Jimmy entered the practice's building after their lunch together.<p>

"I still can't believe you made me wait that long for you to get a mani-pedi?" Jimmy said in a huff while they walked to the elevators.

"Again with that?" Santana bit back. "Don't get your panties all in a bunch. Or should I say knickers? Besides, you flirted the whole time with that manicure lady, and I really needed my nails done. Have you been to Lima?"

"Got her number too," the hazel-eyed man stated proudly with a smug smile, instantly dropping the pout.

"I honestly don't know how that phone of yours holds so many numbers, Jimmy," Santana quipped while they waited for the elevator, returning the smug smile.

"Well, I certainly made good use of them when I was choosing our _company_ for Thursday night, my friend. Suffice to say you shall _not_ be disappointed," Jimmy playfully remarked with a wide smile.

"Where are we going anyway?" the Latina asked while they entered through the elevator's door.

"Oh, let's just say we'll be making a _brilliant_ peregrination through _many_ night clubs and leave it like that." And then the tall man pressed the button to the practice's floor.

"You better not take me to any shitholes, Jimmy," Santana warned him with a raised eyebrow. "I've had enough of those lately."

"Have some faith, San," the brown-haired man replied playfully as Santana snorted in response. Both went on to lean side by side against the elevator's handrail. "So, did you tell Britt about our night out?" Jimmy added and received a sideways discontent look from his friend. "Hey, I only ask to know where I stand if this topic ever pops out. Just trying to be a good bro here," the cardiologist finished with his trademark charming smile, which seemed to have worked that time because the brunette woman quickly replied.

"I told her. Everything. So, you know…" Santana trailed off in an aloof tone, running a hand through her straightened long hair.

"Was she jealous?" Jimmy couldn't contain the question.

"Totally," Santana couldn't contain the prompt answer, and both friends exchanged a small smile.

"Good," the tall man in blazer and jeans blurted out playfully. After a beat he added seriously, looking at the Latina in the eye, "Right?"

Returning the gaze Santana replied in a firm tone, "Frankly, I'm not even sure anymore." And then they arrived at their floor, stepping out of the elevator.

The couple made their way to the receptionist's desk to find Jane sitting there. Having heard the elevator and sensing someone's presence, Jane looked up to greet whomever was there. She was surprised to see who it was.

"Santana! Oh My, God. I'm so happy to see you," the young brunette in her almost mid-twenties exclaimed with a bright smile, grabbing some neon yellow post-its before standing up. "You look so good," she added, handing Jimmy the post-its before hugging the Latina.

"Thanks! It's nice to see you too, Jane," Santana replied with a smile, hugging the receptionist back.

"What? I don't get the same kind of warm reception?" Jimmy complained in a faux-offended tone. "James needs some sugar too, love," the British man added while skimming through his post-it messages.

"Shut up, Jimmy," the brunette doctor blurted out as Jane shook her head dismissively whilst rolling her eyes.

"Why don't you two go ahead to the doctors' lounge? I'll tell everyone Santana's here. I'm sure they are all dying to see you," Jane said, excusing herself before disappearing further into the practice.

"Wow, she's grown!" Santana said looking at Jimmy. "Just the other day she was barely a kid," the Latina mused, still astounded by the long stretch of time she missed.

"Well, she's pretty much still a kid, but a _married_ kid now," Jimmy replied playfully, looking up at Santana from his post-its.

"She got married already?" the Latina asked in surprise, to which the tall man simply nodded.

"Last year."

While Santana shook her head in surprise Jimmy started guiding them towards the doctors' lounge, which wasn't very far. Upon arriving at the spacious, modern room that had a full kitchen area spread in an open floor plan combined with the lounge area that had a couple of sofas, armchairs and a big screen flat tv, they found Anna eating a sandwich in front of the television.

"What a surprise!" Anna exclaimed with a smile as she laid eyes on the two people entering the room. "I didn't know you were visiting," the pediatrician added, dropping her plate on the coffee table and getting up to hug the Latina.

"That was me," Jimmy stated while placing his sling briefcase on the kitchen's island. "I wanted this to be a surprise."

"Either way it's great to see you up and about," the black doctor said with a wider smile as she wrapped the Latina in a tight hug.

Pulling back with a matching smile Santana replied, "Thank you, Anna. I –" she was caught off before she could finish.

"The ass is still as fine as ever," came Noah's smug voice from behind her, making Santana spin around to face the man who was entering the room.

"Wish I could say the same Tyler, but you're still just an ass," Santana quipped with a smug smile and tone of her own.

"Touché. The wit is also still untouched, I see," the blond brain surgeon said with a wide smile, getting closer to the Latina. "Good to see you again," he added more seriously, outstretching his hand to Santana who promptly shook on it with an acknowledgement head nod. "So, how is Blondie?" Noah asked after Santana let go of his hand. Leave it up to the man to make any mood heavy.

"The band?" Santana rhetorically asked in a sarcastic tone, feigning confusion. "Fine, I suppose, although I'm not the one to be asked about current events."

"You know who I'm talking about," the blue-eyed man countered with a soft smile.

Conceding to kill the subject the Latina answered, "She's _excellent_, Noah. So _nice_ of you to ask," she added looking into his eyes, saying the word 'nice' with the intonation of 'crappy'.

"Well, now that you're a free woman maybe we could give _this_," the tall man stated, gesturing from him to the plastic surgeon, "a chance. God knows there's chemistry here," Noah finished with a wide smirk.

Santana, and everyone in the room, laughed out loud. "You're hilarious, Tyler," the Latina let out dismissively with a wide mocking grin. Santana couldn't deny it; Noah Tyler was devilish handsome: broad shoulders, toned muscles, tall, square jaw, abundant soft blond hair… The downside of it all was that he knew it, and the Latina found that an incredible turn-off. It would never happen.

"Are you staying for long?" Anna asked changing the subject as the four of them gathered around the kitchen's island.

"I wish, but I'm just staying for the week. Gotta renew my medical license," Santana explained as Jane entered the room with Stella in tow.

"And here I thought that Jane was yanking my chain," Stella announced in a cheery tone, smiling brightly as she came closer to the group. "You're really here, Santana!" the blonde added, hugging the Latina.

"Sure am, Stella," Santana playfully replied, hugging the blue-eyed blonde back. "Missed me?"

"Of course," Stella replied, pulling back. "You know you are always welcome to come back to the practice, right?"

"Come on, you guys must have replaced me by now," the brunette plastic surgeon stated, knowing quite well from Jimmy that they haven't.

"No way," Anna piped in.

"Your old office is storage now," Noah promptly said to bait the Latina, but soon added, "but that could be easily reversed."

"I wish I could, you have no idea, but I have a daughter to consider now," Santana said, unable to contain a sweet smile. After all, said smile always took over her features when Zoey was mentioned.

"How is Zoey?" Stella asked with interest, matching the Latina's smile. "Jimmy is always giving us updates," she added, looking over at the British who matched the lady's smile.

"Wonderful," Santana replied, taking out her phone to proudly show pictures. After pressing some buttons on the screen, she handed the device to Stella who started to gush over them as the plastic surgeon added, "Thanks for safely delivering her, by the way."

"My pleasure," Stella simply replied, looking up from the screen to give and receive a knowing smile.

As the phone got switched around hands Jimmy asked, "Where are John and Grace?"

"They're with patients now," Jane offered, hovering above Anna to see Zoey's photos as well.

"Shocker, the psychiatrists are the ones busy," Santana quipped with a smile.

"It's not by chance that we have two of them," Noah added with a wink, which only disgusted the Latina.

They talked some more and did their best to catch up in so little time. After a while Jane approached Santana.

"So, I hear congratulations are in order. You're a married woman now," Santana said to the young receptionist.

"Yes, I am," Jane replied with a hint of a blush. She was a timid gal. "Eleven months now," she added, flashing the wedding band.

"I'm happy for you."

"Thanks, and thank Brittany as well. She didn't come to the wedding, but she sent me and Patrick, my husband, a lovely gift. She's always been so nice to me and everyone, really."

Santana knew that to be true. Brittany was indeed really nice to everyone, unlike herself. The thought brought a half-smile to her face as she replied, "Will do."

They talked a bit more, Santana got the chance to say a few words to Grace and John – who finished up with their patients – and after a while and lots of 'goodbyes' and 'see you soons', Jimmy escorted her to the elevator.

"So, I see you tonight, right?" Santana asked, pressing the button to call the elevator.

"Sure thing. Should I stop by the hotel so we can head to the restaurant together?"

"Nah, it's a waste of cab fare. We can just meet there."

"Ok, Quinn's got the tickets?" Jimmy asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other while they waited. Santana nodded her positive answer.

"Did you talk to your realtor friend?" Santana inquired, unconsciously pressing the button again as if it would actually make the elevator come faster. "What his name again?"

"Ryan. Ryan Gates. And yes, I called him. Are you sure you want to sell the duplex? I mean, it's really hard to –" the British man began but was cut off by the brunette.

"I'm sure, and I hope you relayed to him the part of the message where I said that I don't care about the price nor the weak seller's market, I just want to sell it as quickly as humanly possible," Santana said rapidly and in a huff.

The elevator arrived and Santana stepped in as Jimmy replied, "I told him, yes. But I still think this is a mistake."

"Duly noted," the Latina sarcastically replied with an eye-roll, pressing the button to the lobby. "See you later, Jimmy," she added with a small smile.

"Yeah, see you later, San," Jimmy said with a smile before the elevator door closed up.

Leaving the building Santana hailed a cab, and the mere action made her feel better, made her feel a bit more at home. Yeah, New York was definitely working its magic and the Latina liked it. However fleeting the feeling might be she should hang on to it for dear life.

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><p><strong>Hope you liked it, guys! <strong>  
><strong>Next chapter: NYC nightliferepercussions. Will she (Santana) or won't she?**  
><strong>You know the drill, review *no rhyme intended* :D<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Glee _nor its original characters (if I did it would probably be called _The Brittany and Santana Show_, and all the other characters would only be there to help advance their plot).

**A/N**: So sorry for taking this long, guys... The chapter was done by Friday, but some friends decided to take a trip to the country and I was told there would be Wi-Fi there; so, I even took the lappie to update while there but I've been lied to. There was no Wi-Fi. It was an utterly awesome place, but very remote. So, I've just arrived home, and even 'though I'm very, _very _tired, I'm doing this update before hitting the sheets. I promised a chapter a week and I don't break promises. Not without a good damn reason anyhow ;)

Hope you enjoy the new chapter! I think it might be my new favourite one.  
>No dedications this time around. Again: sorry! I just want my bed as fast as possible. I'll make it up to you next chapter by choosing more people :D<br>**Thanks for all the reviews and PMs! You guys are amazing!**

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><p><strong>Mischances, Stances and Stolen Glances<br>**_||Chapter Nine||_

Santana slowly walked through Central Park with a large frappuccino in her hand. The early afternoon was really lovely, and the Latina felt good in her new clothes and shoes. New York was really being good to her. Sucking on the long green straw Santana heard her phone ringing inside her orange designer bag. Retrieving the device after some searching the brunette saw Brittany's smiling mug – along with Zoey's – on the screen. It brought a brief smile to her lips.

"Brittany, something wrong? Is Zoey ok?" Santana quickly answered with concern, stopping mid-walk.

"Yes, she's fine. Why?" Brittany replied in confusion.

"Well, you're calling me…"

"What? Can't I call you just to see how you are?"

Santana processed the information as she resumed her walk. "Yeah, I guess," she said with palpable hesitation.

"We didn't even get a chance to talk when you called Zoey yesterday," the blonde said lowly, feeling a bit embarrassed by her unruly emotions. "I was wondering how your practicals went."

"I was in a bit of a hurry with dinner and all," the Latina replied in the same tone. She felt sorry even 'though she had no reason for it. "But they are going fine. Piece of cake, really."

"I'm glad to hear it, San," Brittany replied with a smile.

"Yeah, this morning's were a bit more demanding, but I went to Minetta after to cheer myself up. Do you remember that place?" Santana asked with a smile of her own.

"How could I forget? Just thinking about those burgers makes my mouth water," the dancer replied, suddenly feeling quite nostalgic. "And how was dinner and the play with those three?" she added, feeling way more nostalgic than seconds before.

"Fun, you know, the typical night out with the stooges," the brunette joked lightheartedly, but Brittany knew she probably loved it, and then Santana added without thinking, "I'm glad Berry could make it to dinner, 'though. For Q's sakes." _Shit, there it went_; the Latina thought.

"Why? Are they having problems or something?" Brittany asked with concern laced in her voice.

"No, just forget I said anything," the doctor replied, mentally kicking herself.

"I can't un-think what I already thought, San," the blue-eyed woman delivered in Brittany fashion. "Come on, tell me. They are my friends, too, you know?"

Santana shook her head, sighed and gave up as she replied, "It's nothing really… I guess Dwarf is just a bit too busy at the moment from what I gathered from Quinn. But you know how Q is. She's kinda like me, we keep these things close to the vest."

"Don't I know…" Brittany replied lightheartedly, "I'll call Quinn later."

"Don't!" the Latina cried out rapidly. "She'll know I told you."

"She _knows_ we share everything. Trust me, it won't be a surprise," the dancer stated with amusement and a smile.

"We _shared_ everything," the brunette corrected matter-of-factly, and the blonde's smile fell. "We're not supposed to share anything anymore. Besides Zoey, obviously," she added, and it came out sounding harsher than when it was floating inside her head. Santana was still having issues with containing her frustration; she was trying, but at times she didn't succeed.

Brittany was taken aback. She didn't know what to say. The dancer still wasn't used to the Latina's random outbursts. She was always ever-so-kind and gentle with her in the past.

"Sorry, that came out wrong," Santana said apologetically.

"It's fine…" Brittany said dismissively, and changed the subject, "So, how was the play?"

"If you tell anyone this I'll strongly deny it, but Berry was really good up in that stage," Santana added in a hushed tone, like someone else might actually be listening.

Brittany laughed out loud at the Latina's antics and replied in a whisper, "Don't worry, San, your secret is safe with me. Where are you now, by the way?"

Santana didn't answer the question and stopped walking abruptly. The sight before her came as a big surprise as she absentmindedly pushed up her aviators to sort of confirm she was seeing what she _actually_ was seeing.

"Santana, are you there? Something wrong?" Brittany asked again, afraid she had lost the call.

Shaking her head the Latina found her voice again as she replied weakly, "I'm still here, I… I just reached the fountain."

"What fountain?" the blue-eyed woman asked in confusion.

"_The_ fountain," Santana replied a bit more firmly, intensifying the hold on her coffee drink. "I'm in Central Park," the brunette added to clarify as she walked closer to the fixture, stopping briefly to dump the transparent plastic cup into a trash can.

"Oh," was all Brittany managed to reply, being taken over by a huge lump in her throat.

_Brittany sat on a small throw blanket stretched on Central Park's green grass as Santana lay on her back with her head on the dancer's lap. The Latina read a book while the blonde gazed at the duck-filled pond, absentmindedly running a caring hand through dark locks._

_Looking up to sneak a quick peek at the blue-eyed woman's serene face, Santana said softly after she returned her eyes to the book, "I'm sorry I have to study."_

_Looking down at the brunette Brittany replied just as softly, "It's alright, I'm glad you could break free from the library to have lunch with me here." Santana looked up to meet blue eyes and was graced with a sweet smile, which she more than willingly matched._

"_My pleasure, really," the Latina began softly whilst holding the blonde's stare, and then added with a snappier and snarkier tone, "Jimmy and the others were already starting to annoy me. When will people realize that talking about all the pressure we're under will only generate more pressure? I mean, everybody knows in a couple of years we'll be done with Med School and that our future rides high on these tests. So, just shut up and do the work, people!" After the speech the Med student was all flustered and worked up._

_Taking in her girlfriend's state Brittany simply stopped her hair caressing and leaned down a bit to lay a lingering kiss on Santana's lips. She knew it was all the brunette needed. When the blonde pulled back the Latina's eyes were still closed and all the tension had disappeared from her face. Brittany smiled softly just as Santana was opening her eyes. The dancer loved the calming effect she had always possessed when it came to her girlfriend, who at that moment flashed her a sweet and private smile._

"_You're so smart. I'm sure you'll do fine, babe," Brittany said sweetly, resuming her hair caressing._

"_You have too much faith in me, Britts," Santana replied half-playfully, half-seriously as she returned her gaze to the Bio Chem book in her hands._

"_I do," the blue-eyed dancer stated quickly, tapping the tip of the Latina's nose playfully, which made both of them grin._

"_I'm surprised you're not rehearsing," Santana said after a beat with eyes on the book, changing the subject. The dance company Brittany was part of usually had a pretty strained rehearsal schedule. They barely had opportunities to have lunch dates._

"_Yeah, we're starting a bit later this afternoon," the dancer replied looking at the pond, unsure if it was time to finally tell her girlfriend the news she had been putting off for too long. Nah, she would tell her later. 'When' was the real question._

"_That's nice. They ride you guys too hard," the brunette stated with over protectiveness laced in her tone, looking up at the blonde. "No articulation can handle that much strain."_

"_Well, luckily I have an amazing girlfriend who gives heavenly foot rubs and massages," Brittany stated with a grin, looking down at the beautiful face on her lap._

"_Don't ever forget that," Santana shot back with a smirk._

"_Hey! I give you excellent foot rubs and massages too, you know?"_

"_And I'll never forget that." Short pause. "Especially when they have a happy ending," she added, earning a playful punch on the arm from the dancer and a wide grin on both women's set of lips._

_Santana went back to reading and Brittany went back to duck and people watching. A few minutes passed in comfortable silence when Santana – unable to help herself – stole another glance at her girlfriend's pretty face. Yes, she was aware that studying alongside Brittany was far from ideal when progress was the desired goal. She had learned that lesson when they first began living together at sophomore year of college. Anyhow, the look on the blonde's face was one of the sweetest Santana had ever seen, and paired with a similar smile; so, ever so curious on all things Brittany, the Latina subconsciously let her gaze flow to the direction the dancer's gaze was. Turned out the blue-eyed woman was watching a couple walking hand-in-hand as they watched their little kid skipping gladly ahead of them. Santana redirected her warm chocolate eyes to Brittany's face and after a few seconds the blonde felt the weight of said pair of eyes on her._

_Looking down and spotting a peculiar look on her girlfriend's eyes, Brittany furrowed her brows a bit and asked, "What?" And then she flashed a curious smile._

_Santana shook her head against the blonde's lap and flashed a tight-lipped smile back before she answered nonchalantly, "Nothing." But she kept the same look on her face._

"_What?" the blue-eyed woman asked again in a shriek tone, shifting her smile into a wide grin as she shoved the brunette's shoulder playfully. "Tell me."_

_Santana didn't say anything, she merely directed her gaze pointedly to the couple Brittany had been watching but moments ago. The dancer looked up and saw what her girlfriend meant._

_After a silent beat the Latina asked barely above a whisper, looking straight into lively blue eyes, "Do you want them?" It took a lot from her to ask this. They had never discussed this big subject before, and she certainly hadn't thought about it before that very moment. Truth be told she wasn't exactly a kid person. And this was the type of huge subject that could make or break any couple. Hence the magnitude of the topic. 'Cause when two people didn't see eye to eye on it… well, things held little promise to a future together. After all, there was a reason why most couples avoided the topic like the plague. It was like poking a sleeping tiger with a tiny stick. Chances were… you would get hurt._

_Brittany heard Santana's question and it took her by surprise. They had never talked about this before, but she certainly had entertained the idea with much fondness before. Part of her couldn't help but feel scared about her answer and what consequences the simple reply could set in motion. She knew her girlfriend was touchy when it came to these huge topics, which is why she felt surprised to hear her bringing it up herself. But the other part of her knew that she couldn't lie, the blonde could never lie to her girlfriend. Ever. Not about anything that truly mattered anyhow. She had learned that many moons ago. And she surely couldn't lie when it came to something as important as this. _

_So, throwing care out the window, Brittany took a big breath, looked down at Santana's eyes and said, "I do, yes..." Small pause to swallow and compose herself. "Some time," she added softly with remarkable cadence. The dancer tried to read Santana's face but she was too otherwise preoccupied that the Latina might be able to hear the loud drumming of her heart, which sounded deafening in her own ears. _

_Pushing the thought aside, Brittany summed enough courage to ask, "You?" The single word came slightly cracked and sort of sighed._

_Brittany looked down at Santana diligently, like the brunette was about to answer the ultimate question about the real meaning of life. The blue-eyed woman could see the wheels turning inside her girlfriend's head, and she found the small waiting fitting. After all, there was always a deliberation time before the jury came back with the final verdict._

"_I don't know," Santana replied honestly after a beat, and Brittany's breath hitched as she stared into brown eyes. The Latina also could never lie to her girlfriend. It was a tacit agreement both made when they were still kids. And the brunette frankly hasn't thought about the subject before. "I haven't thought about it before," she added in earnest, with no guarding filters._

_However, just the thought of a kid that would be theirs and no one else's... A kid that would probably have a fondness for ducks and bluntness, a kid that she and Brittany would be raising up together with love and affection… Those thoughts alone rendered Santana helpless, and she briefly feared what the kid himself, or herself, would actually do to her._

_Pushing the thought aside, Santana finished with a smile, "But… yeah, I do." And Brittany flashed her megawatt smile, letting out a breath she wasn't even aware she was still holding. "Some time," the brunette added in the same fashion as her girlfriend did a moment before, morphing her smile into a megawatt one as well._

_Brittany leaned down again and kissed Santana with utmost tender. The Latina eagerly responded, placing a hand on the soft skin at the back of the dancer's neck to bring the woman even closer if possible. Their lips moved slowly with familiar intimacy when they felt the drop._

_Pulling back with annoyance for being interrupted Santana asked, "Did you feel that?"_

_Before Brittany could reply the teardrops increased in amount and speed and you could see people dashing throughout Central Park to dodge the rain._

"_Grab the basket," the Med student commanded, and Brittany did just so as Santana rolled the throw blanket into a messy ball and put it inside it. "Here, let me put my book there," the brunette added and Brittany opened up one side to give her access, closing quickly after._

_The girls started jogging side by side but after a while Brittany's pace slowed down a bit, and when they were near a big fountain she completely stopped in the middle of the pouring rain. Santana, who was a bit ahead, heard her girlfriend's voice from behind her._

"_Wait!" Brittany called out, standing in front of the fountain with the picnic basket on arm. After that amazing talk they just shared she had to tell Santana. She had to tell her girlfriend right then._

_Santana came to a halt, looked back puzzled and said, "What? Did you drop something?" The brunette moved closer to the dancer, glancing past the blonde in an attempt to find any dropped items._

"_No. We, we need to talk," the blue-eyed woman stammered, feeling her clothes drench by the second. It was a torrential downpour._

"_What?" the brown-eyed woman asked in disbelief, buttoning up her beige coat and pulling the collar up. "In the middle of the rain? Are you crazy, B? We can talk back home. Let's go," she added louder because the rain had turned into a noisy storm, and wrapped a hand around her girlfriend's wrist._

_It was futile. The blonde did not move and replied just as loudly, "No, it has to be now." 'Or I'll lose my nerve', she added in her own head as the angel on top of the fountain seemed to judge her._

"_We'll catch our deaths here, Brittany," Santana scolded with a hint of annoyance, letting go of the dancer's wrist._

_Brittany took a deep breath and stated while locking eyes with the Latina, "They asked me to go on tour. Featured dancer for some pop starlet." She took the time to gauge Santana's reaction and was surprised when she saw the widest of grins taking over her perfect lips._

_All of Santana's previous annoyance seemed to have vanished. Suddenly she couldn't care less if she was standing in the middle of the goddamn rain, the Med student was too proud of her girlfriend to give a rat's ass. "Babe, that's… awesome! I'm so proud of you," she said with a wide grin, closing the little space between them to wrap her arms around the blonde's neck tightly._

_Brittany put her arms around her girlfriend's waist as a reflex, but she knew the brunette wasn't getting the whole picture. "It's a four months tour, Santana," the dancer said softly in the shorter woman's ear._

"_Fantastic! I know you will kick ass, Britt! God, I'm so proud," Santana gushed softly in Brittany's ear, unable to let go of her girlfriend. They were completely soaked at that moment._

_This was killing the dancer. She then clarified, barely above a whisper as her lips grazed Santana's ear, "A four months tour… across the country, San."_

_The blue-eyed woman felt Santana pulling back from the hug. She sorely missed the contact and dreaded to look at her girlfriend's face… but she did it. Brittany could see that Santana was poising her reaction._

"_Across the country?" Santana asked with remarkable control. Maybe she had heard wrong. However, her girlfriend nodded the confirmation._

_Brittany was expecting lots of questions, perhaps even an argument after them, but the last thing she expected was what came from the Latina's mouth._

"_It's fine," the brunette simply said._

"_Excuse me?" Brittany replied confusedly, furrowing her brows a bit._

"_I said it's fine. I'm happy for you," Santana stated with a stoic façade in place, not looking at the blonde in the eye. "We should go home. We're drenched," she added and started walking towards the street again._

_Brittany grabbed her wrist to stop her. "Wait. We need to talk more about this," the dancer said with a worried tone. "Are you angry?" she chanced softly. The blonde hated when Santana started to put up a front to prevent her from reading her._

"_No, I'm not," Santana replied, not really sure if she actually full-heartedly meant it. "But I need to change and get back to the library. We can talk later," she added, letting brown eyes drift quickly on and off blue ones._

_Brittany nodded. She knew it was no use to press Santana. The brunette needed to deal with things at her own pace, and the dancer never had a problem with that. She was always willing to give her the time._

_Santana walked into their small apartment late that evening. It wasn't as small as their first one, but it was still quite limited. All they had was a bedroom with a bathroom, a small maid's bedroom – which they used as an office for studying and rehearsing – and a living room connected with the kitchen. However, said kitchen had this charming breakfast nook that had Brittany in love from the first moment they laid eyes on it while apartment-hunting. So, Santana caved and they signed on the dotted line._

_Brittany heard the door from their black comfy couch and lift up her head from the lying position she found herself in to greet her girlfriend._

"_Hey," the blonde said softly with a smile, coming up to a sideways sitting position._

"_Hi," the brown-eyed woman replied, placing the Columbia P&S tote bag on the bottom side of the L-shaped kitchen island along with her keys._

"_You guys broke the record on studying today," Brittany remarked playfully, not dropping the easy smile._

"_Yeah…" Santana trailed on, "the topics just seemed endless," she added, undoing her coat and taking it off._

"_Did you eat? There's Chinese in the fridge if you're hungry," the dancer offered as she watched her girlfriend place her coat on the back side of one of the kitchen island's stools._

"_I ate, thanks," the brown-eyed woman said, looking into blue eyes for the first time since entering the apartment._

_After a silent beat, Brittany finally asked with hesitation, "Should we talk?" She was starting to feel anxious, Santana always greeted her with a kiss unless something was really off, and the Latina was making no movements that suggested she would do so anytime soon._

"_I'll just take a shower first. I'm completely burned out," Santana replied nonchalantly. She was indeed very tired, but deep down she knew she was just stalling the inevitable. Her studies that afternoon got completely sidetracked. The Latina usually needed to read the same page a couple of times to fully comprehend it, but that day her mind insisted so much on drifting off to Brittany's tour situation that she wound up having to re-read each page up to six times. And her mood? Well, let's just say that her classmates were scared to even ask Santana to pass a pencil or a book. That's how snappy she was. Way more than her usual dosage of venom._

"_Ok," Brittany replied with a suspicious tone and Santana started to walk towards their bedroom. "But we need to talk, Santana," she added a little louder to the back of the departing figure._

_The blonde went back to watch some tv in her pink bathrobe while her girlfriend took her shower. Suffice to say the Latina took her dear time. 30 minutes later she emerged from the bedroom in a red 'You Are Here' t-shirt, a tight yoga pants and flip flops._

_Turning off the tv immediately and turning around to look at the brunette, Brittany said, "So?"_

_Santana adjusted her high-ponytail while replying in the same tone, "So?" She didn't know what Brittany expected her to say._

_The Latina started walking towards the fridge and Brittany got up from the couch to follow, feeling frustrated by the fact that Santana was dodging this conversation. The brunette opened the fridge and started to inspect the items inside. She didn't want anything, really, but she had to do something with herself; so, she grabbed a bottle of water as Brittany took a seat on one of the stools._

"_Let's talk," the blue-eyed woman stated, watching the Latina closing the fridge's door._

_Turning around with the bottle in hand, Santana replied aloofly, "Sure, but I don't see what's left to say."_

"_What do you mean?" Brittany asked furrowing her brows half-confused, half-offended while fussing absentmindedly with the handle of Santana's tote bag._

"_Well, you were offered the tour and I'm assuming you said yes already, didn't you?" the Med student answered with a firm tone, opening the bottle to take a sip of water._

"_No, I didn't," Brittany shot back, finding some steadiness of tone of her own. This really wasn't going like she had expected. "I wanted to check with you first. I was hoping we could –"_

_Santana cut her off abruptly, "Wanted to check with me?" she asked with disbelief before snorting dryly. "That's rich…" the brunette added sarcastically, wearing a grin that conveyed the same sentiment. "'Cause, tell me, how long have you known about this offer and failed to mention it to me?" Santana had thought about this a lot in the library and in the shower. The woman never came unprepared for a battle. She had noticed that Brittany was having a much lighter ride with the dance company for the past few days, which proved to her that the blonde had been holding out on her._

_Brittany was caught a little off guard. She wasn't expecting her girlfriend to bring this out. "They told me a couple of days ago. But I –"_

_The brown-eyed woman cut her off again, "So, you've been hi –"_

_It was the dancer's turn to cut the Latina off, "If you'd just let me finish one sentence I could explain everything, Santana," the blonde stated with exasperation._

_Santana took a deep breath to cool her temper, put the bottle aside to cross her arms defensively and replied coldly, "I don't think I want to hear it."_

_It came as slap in the face to Brittany. She couldn't believe her girlfriend just said that. She couldn't believe how Santana was turning this into a huge fight. "Are you serious?" she asked in a broken tone, looking straight into cold chocolate orbs._

_Santana could see the hurt in those blue eyes as clear as day and she couldn't help but feel her heart contracting in an incredibly crushing way. Even so, despite reason, better judgment or sense she replied nothing. Out of sheer pride. The brunette simply shrugged and it was too much for Brittany to take. The dancer could feel her eyes welling up and she didn't want to cry in front of Santana. Not then. So, she huffed out of the stool and dashed to their bedroom, leaving a dejected Santana standing alone in the middle of the kitchen._

_The brunette plopped down on the couch, covering her closed eyes with an arm. What the fuck am I doing? Was all that Santana wondered at that moment. Since Brittany told her about the tour… About the 'across the country' tour… For four whole months; Santana couldn't help but let the daunting feeling that rushed through her brain take over her entire being. But she knew she wasn't being fair. This was part of Brittany's dream. She had heard a lot on the dancer's plan of achieving enough notoriety on the business to one day finally be able to open her own dance studio and be able to dictate her own hours, and rules, and artistic direction. Now she was letting her own insecurities and hang-ups hold her girlfriend back. And that was the last thing she ever wanted. The Latina was so proud of the blue-eyed woman, and now she wasn't even sure the blonde knew it. Santana knew this would never really bring them apart. They were stronger within each day that passed, and they had been together for many, many days, that add up to months, that add up to years. She just felt scared because she needed Brittany so much, and 'Santana Lopez' didn't need anything._

_Getting up and feeling like a fool, Santana slowly made her way to their bedroom. She opened up the door with little noise and could see that it was pitch black inside. She stood by her side of the bed and could then see the outline of Brittany's face perfectly. The blonde's eyes were closed extremely tightly and Santana could see her eyeballs moving from side to side underneath her eyelids. Brittany had always been terrible at fake sleep. The scene tugged a small smile to form on the brunette's lips as she slid beneath the comforter next to the dancer._

"_I know you're awake," Santana stated after a bit, turning her nightstand lamp on. Brittany did not open her eyes, but Santana was finally able to see that her cheeks were tear-stained and it broke her heart even further. She was officially an ass. "I'm sorry," she added softly after a beat, resting her head on her pillow._

_That did the trick and the dancer opened up her eyes. They looked even bluer due to her crying. The two women engaged in a staring contest. Santana didn't know if it was okay for her to go on, or if her girlfriend wanted to lay it all out on her first. She surely deserved._

"_Are you angry with me?" Came Brittany's hoarse voice after a few more moments._

"_No… no," Santana replied quickly, almost pleadingly, "I'm angry at myself for being such an idiot," she added in a self-chastising tone. "I just –"_

_The blonde cut her off, "I won't go," she stated resolutely._

"_What? Of course you will."_

"_I won't. Not if it turns us into… this." She hated fighting with her girlfriend._

"_It won't, babe," Santana said softly, holding the dancer's stare with remorseful eyes. "I just felt scared, that's all. I overreacted and I let the wrong side of my emotions do the talking, and I'm so sorry for how I acted," the brunette added sweetly, offering her girlfriend her hand in hopes that she would take it and hold it._

_Brittany took Santana's offered hand gently and replied softly, "I felt scared, too, you know? And I didn't tell you at first because I was thinking about saying 'no' straight up. I don't think I could handle four months apart. Four months without seeing you, without holding your hand, or talking to you –"_

_Santana interrupted the blonde's mumbling, "We'll talk every day on the phone, and we can send each other emails constantly," she saw Brittany's unsure look and she knew exactly why; so, she amended, "well, maybe not emails, but I promise to write you a letter every other day and you can write me one every other day as well to respond." Brittany was horrible with computers. She barely knew how to turn it on and turn it off._

"_Like in 'The Love Letter'?" Brittany asked with a glint on her eye and a smile on her pink lips._

"_What?"_

"_That movie we saw on tv late that night."_

_Santana though about it for a while and then she recalled it, "Ah, that cheesy Hallmark one?" The blonde nodded pleased and the brunette added, "Yeah, I guess, but without the extra fromage and the time difference between us, of course."_

"_Good, 'cause that part was confusing. But you'll have to write me romantic letters, San," the dancer sweet talked, letting go of Santana's hand to cup her caramel cheek adoringly._

"_We'll see," the brunette replied teasingly, covering her girlfriend's pale hand on her cheek with her own._

"_Do you really think we can do this?" Brittany asked in a whisper after a beat._

"_I really do. We love each other. Nothing else matters," Santana replied in the same tone, granting the dancer a reassuring smile, which was quickly matched. "And just in case I haven't said it yet, I'm so proud of you, B. You have no idea how much. I know how important this opportunity is for you and I want you to know that I'm happy for you. Very much so. I've been from the start, even 'though I had a hard time showing it."_

_Brittany blushed. It was uncanny how Santana still had that effect on her even after all those years together. "Thanks, San. It means a lot," Brittany said in the sweetest of tones and wearing a megawatt smile on her face._

_Santana took Brittany's hand from where it lay on her cheek and gently kissed its back. "We'll be fine," she stated as both women retrieved their hands._

"_Promise?" the dancer asked with a small pout on her lips while holding her pinkie up._

"_Promise," Santana replied with confidence, intertwining their pinkies together like they've been doing since they were six years old. "When do you leave?" she added after a beat, searching for blue eyes._

"_Next week. Monday," the blue-eyed woman volunteered with a slight wince._

"_So soon?" the brown-eyed student asked in surprise without missing a bit. Brittany simply nodded her confirmation and offered a tight-lipped half-smile as they unlaced their pinkies. This was so hard. Santana mustered up enough will power to reciprocate the smile and added in order to lighten the mood, "I guess we'll have to make the most of it then." And she smirked._

_Brittany shot a peculiar smile towards her girlfriend that completely conveyed how thankful she was for her new-found attitude. But it didn't last long 'cause it morphed into a smirk. _

"_Get over here," the dancer commanded in a sexy tone that rendered Santana's mouth dry as she did what she was told._

_They made love that night. It was one of the best they have ever had. And they have had some pretty amazing ones in the past, but that one took the cake._

_The next day it was almost three in the afternoon when Santana received a call from Brittany at school. She was just leaving the lab._

"_Hey, Britt," Santana greeted with enthusiasm as she walked the halls. She was in a sickeningly amazing mood; she had an incredible time last night, after all._

"_Hi, babe," Brittany replied in the same tone. She was in a sickeningly amazing mood; she had an incredible time last night, after all._

"_You know you got me all sore last night, right? I've been walking funny all day," the Latina said barely above a whisper, so no one around could hear her. Her girlfriend chuckled across the phone and the brunette added, "It's not funny, people are starting to talk. It doesn't help that I had to wear a turtleneck to hide all the hickeys you left on my neck."_

_Brittany still had a wide smile on her lips as she replied playfully, "Well, in my defense, you didn't leave me in a much better shape, honey." The brunette student couldn't help a laugh._

"_We were pretty wild yesterday, weren't we?"_

"_Best night ever."_

"_Really? What about that time in Tortola? Sophomore year of college," Santana asked mischievously, raising a suggestive eyebrow even 'though the blonde couldn't see it._

"_Yeah, that was Earth-shattering, too," Brittany replied absentmindedly, letting her mind travel to memories of that night instead._

"_No wonder they named the island after me," the Latina said with a smug tone of voice._

"_You were named after the island, San," Brittany countered matter-of-factly, rolling her eyes at the student's cockiness. She had heard her girlfriend's parents telling that story before._

"_Semantics," the brown-eyed woman dismissed it. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?"_

"_I was wondering if you could meet me now for a quick chat."_

"_Is this about the tour, 'cause I thought we –"_

"_It's not. It's not about the tour," the blue-eyed woman cut her off before it went any further. "I just have something really important to talk to you."_

"_Any hints?" Santana asked tentatively._

"_Nope," the dancer replied teasingly._

"_I have a class in 45 minutes. Is that enough time? Where are you?"_

"_It's plenty of time. I swear it won't take long. I'm at the fountain."_

"_What fountain?" Santana asked with confusion._

"_The fountain. From yesterday; I'm at Central Park," Brittany clarified with enthusiasm._

"_Alright then, if I leave now I'll be there in ten."_

"_I'll be waiting, babe."_

_In a little more than ten minutes Santana arrived at the fountain to see Brittany sitting at its edge from a small distance. The sun was hitting her long blonde hair, giving it an alluring golden appearance and the brunette couldn't help but think how lucky she was to have her all for herself. Brittany saw Santana approaching and opened up a wide smile but remained sitting._

_Santana rapidly reached her and pulled on the blonde's black overcoat's lapel to lay a chaste kiss on glossy lips. "Hey, you," she said in a sultry tone that sent shivers down the dancer's spine, and took a seat on the edge next to her girlfriend._

"_Hi," Brittany replied adoringly, wiping some lip gloss from Santana's mouth._

"_So, what was so urgent?" Santana asked with sheer curiosity._

"_Cutting straight to the chase, huh?"_

"_I'm on the clock here, babe."_

"_Alright, I'll make it fast," the dancer began evenly, clearing her throat to proceed. "So, I was thinking about our talk yesterday about the tour and –"_

"_I thought this wasn't about the tour," the brunette interjected with furrowed brows._

_Brittany shook her head and said, "It isn't. Please, babe, just let me finish 'cause I got this all memorized and if you start saying stuff the stuff I had planned to say won't apply and –"_

"_Ok, ok, I won't interrupt," Santana said and received a pointed look from the dancer, "…anymore," she added with a soft smile, making a gesture of closing her mouth with a key and throwing it away, which made Brittany smile._

"_So, I was thinking about our talk and about how much I love you and how much I love us, and how I always have," Brittany began to ramble on, running a hand through straight blonde hair, "And how I know this will never change, 'cause I've loved you for what it seems like all my life, Santana. I've never loved anything or anyone in the whole world more than I love you. You are my soulmate, San, I'm sure of that, and I would be devastated if something happened while I'm away on tour," Santana was about to interject 'cause she was visibly touched by her girlfriend's speech and she had to object to her last statement, but Brittany held up a finger against the student's lips to stop her. _

"_After all that thinking I knew what I had to do," Brittany continued, but Santana couldn't contain herself anymore._

"_Please, tell me you didn't back off the tour, Britt. There's no reason –" the brunette student began pleadingly with sad eyes but was cut off by the blonde._

"_Just let me finish, babe," the blue-eyed woman said softly. "I didn't, by the way. After all that thinking I knew what I had to do; so, I called Quinn and she helped me to pick this out," and Brittany swiftly pulled out a tiny aqua blue box with a white ribbon around it from her overcoat's pocket._

_Santana gasped with shock and covered her mouth with her hand. The brunette didn't anticipate this at all. She looked into Brittany's blue eyes with bewilderment as the blonde giddily undid the ribbon and pulled out a tinier black velvety box from inside the aqua blue one, and opened it up facing Santana to reveal a gorgeous platinum engagement ring with a round diamond in a solitaire setting: a classic beauty._

_Brittany turned a bit more to face Santana better and said sweetly while holding up the open box, "So, I guess this is the part where I officially ask this: Santana Danielle Lopez, will you marry me?" The dancer giggled a bit, taking in her girlfriend's pale and shocked face. "I would go down on one knee but I always found that silly," she added as an afterthought._

_Regaining her voice, and thanking heavens for being sitting down – otherwise her legs would have surely failed her – Santana replied with disbelief, eyeing the ring, "Brittany, what did you do? That must have cost you an arm and a leg."_

"_Don't worry, babe. I had money saved up; besides, I received an advance for the tour this morning when I called them to accept the offer," the blue-eyed woman replied dismissively with a wave of hand, eager to hear the brunette's answer._

"_You shouldn't have spent it on me, honey. You've worked really hard to earn that," Santana countered lightheartedly, unable to keep her eyes off of the gorgeous ring._

"_I still haven't heard an answer, San. You're starting to scare me here," Brittany said with a light chuckle._

"_Yes, of course yes," the Med student said rapidly with a shake of head, smiling brightly from ear to ear. "I will marry you, Brittany Susan Pierce. I love you."_

_Brittany matched her girlfriend's smile and busied herself with taking the ring off its box to place on Santana's long caramel finger. Both were laughing and getting misty-eyed._

"_Perfect fit," Santana stated happily, holding her hand up to inspect it from a small distance._

"_I took one of yours to measure. Do you like it?" Brittany asked with a tinge of insecurity._

"_Like it? No," the brunette said and her fiancé's heart skipped a beat, "I love it. It's gorgeous, Britt," she added and the blonde sighed with relief. "I can't thank you enough. It's absolutely perfect," Santana finished, crashing her lips against the dancer's into a passionate kiss._

_Pulling apart when air was needed, Brittany replied with a nauseating goofy smile, "I'm glad you loved it, fiancé."_

_Santana matched that smile as she stated, "Well, you do have exceptional taste, fiancé."_

"_I like the sound of that," the blue-eyed woman said lazily, laying a quick kiss on the brunette's lips. "Now with my rock on your finger I know for sure no one will try to snatch you from me while I'm away," she added playfully._

"_Have you no trust in me?" the brown-eyed woman asked playfully in an exaggerated mock-offended tone._

"_Oh, I trust you, babe. It's the sluts and man-whores that I don't trust around my hot, hot girlfriend," Brittany quipped with a grin and quickly amended, "fiancé, actually."_

_Santana laughed and brought Brittany closer for one more long kiss. They couldn't have enough of each other._

_Pulling back Santana said with reluctance, "I hate to score a rock and leave, but I really can't miss this class, babe."_

"_I understand. We can celebrate when you get home later," the blonde said with a wink as the Latina stood up against her will._

"_You'll be the death of me, you know that?" Santana asked rhetorically with a smirk, leaning in for one last kiss before she went back to school._

_At that evening Santana went home with an aqua blue box of her own for Brittany. The engagement ring had also a round diamond shape, but it was set in a square-cut platinum Channel-set band. She engraved the same word Brittany had engraved inside hers: Forever. The Latina stated they were both brides-to-be; so, it was only natural that they both deserved rings. Brittany squealed with joy, because she totally wasn't expecting that. And Santana made sure to let her know that her rock on the blonde's finger was also a keep-away sign for sluts and man-whores who would be probably waltzing around her hot, hot fiancé on tour. They laughed and later shared several bottles of bubbly with Quinn, Rachel and Jimmy to celebrate the impromptu joyous engagement._

Brittany swallowed the lump in order to weakly ask, "Is it still that beautiful?" Memories of rains, and quarrels, and kisses, and touches, and engagement rings, and a million other things were rapidly rushing through her brain like those little movies people say you see in your head moments before you die.

Santana pushed her aviators up to her head to look at the big fixture without brown lens to taint the image before her, and was met with the beautiful sight of the angel up above. She took a deep breath and responded wistfully, running a hand through the edge on the very same spot they sat years ago, "Yeah, it is still stunning." Memories of rains, and quarrels, and kisses, and touches, and engagement rings, and a million other things came flushing through her head and it was just too much.

"I can still –" Brittany began to utter but was cut off by Santana.

"Listen, Brittany… I, uh," the Latina said randomly with uncertainty, still a bit stunned by the whole situation, "I gotta go now. I still have to meet with Jimmy's realtor friend about the apartment and with a former patient later. So, I better get moving," she added, turning her back on the big fountain and putting her shades back on.

The blonde noted the doctor's lost tone and asked softly, "Are you ok?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" the brown-eyed woman replied dryly, putting her walls instantly up as she made her way towards the street to grab a cab.

"Ok."

"Bye, Brittany."

"Talk to you later, San."

And both women hung up with a weird feeling inside. Santana strode firmly in her red sole pumps and pencil skirt as she dumped her phone back into her bag. Maybe New York wasn't that much of a grand idea. Her first official outing by herself and memories of Brittany already found their way to seep through. She would definitely be avoiding any trips to the West Village. The neighborhood would certainly be an endless mine-field of triggers.

Brittany hung up and stood rooted in her kitchen, staring at her cell's screen way longer after the call had ended. Taking a slow deep breath the blonde discarded the gadget on the counter and let her feet guide her. She made it past the hallway and ended up in her bedroom, standing in front of the dresser while eyeing her jewelry box that sat on top of it. The dancer didn't pull the top up; instead she opened up this little drawer on the bottom and immediately spotted the two items inside. Brittany took her engagement ring and read the inscription inside. It read '_Forever_'. It brought a bittersweet smile to her lips, and then she proceeded to slide the ring down her long finger. However, when it reached the bottom her smile dropped because the ring Santana gave her clashed with her new wedding ring, and it just didn't feel right. Her stomach dropped and her head felt light. The dancer instantly let her eyes drift to the other item inside the little drawer: her yellow gold wedding band. Brittany picked it up and also read its inscription: _Santana Pierce-Lopez_, followed by their wedding date. She felt tears starting to well in her eyes and shook them off; gently placing the two beloved items back where they came from, closing the little drawer after.

* * *

><p>A couple of days later Santana was lying in bed at her hotel suite when she heard something ringing. She wasn't exactly sure whether it was just in her head or whether it was actually happening. After some more rings the brunette sat up in a white t-shirt and slung her bare legs on the edge of the bed, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. The doctor eyed the blue LCD display of the digital clock on her nightstand and saw: Friday, 01:44 AM… her eyes blurred when they fell on the temperature, 'though. She went for her clutch bag that was discarded on the floor along with several items of clothing, but after retrieving her cell phone from inside the Latina noticed the ringing wasn't coming from the device. She had 5 missed calls, 'though. Santana put the two items on her nightstand and picked up the actual source of the noise: the hotel phone.<p>

"Hello?" she answered in a sleepy tone of voice, sitting on the edge of the bed again.

"Miss Lopez, we have a call from one Brittany Pierce. Would you care to receive it?" the woman ceremoniously proclaimed on the other end of the line.

"Sure," Santana replied, rubbing her eye again. She left the '_what the hell_' out of the answer, 'though.

"Santana?" Came the blonde's tentative low voice.

"Yeah," the Latina said, still in a very groggy tone. "Brittany, why on Earth are you calling me at…" she chanced a look at the clock, "…01:46 in the night?" the brunette asked hoarsely with confusion. "Did something happen with Zoey?" she finished, her voice taking a concerned tone.

"No, she's fine, but you didn't call her yesterday and we were worried. I tried calling you a couple of times earlier on your cell but you weren't picking up and –" Brittany rambled on in a hushed tone of voice.

Santana cut her rambling off, "Yeah, I saw the missed calls now. I went out and it was really loud inside the club. I could barely hear what people were whispering in my ear, let alone my cell ringing in my clutch," she explained matter-of-factly. "I was going to call her yesterday but when I saw it was already too late, so I decided to call her in the morning."

"I –" the blonde started to say when she heard an unfamiliar voice.

"Who's that?" An attractive brunette in a white bathrobe asked groggily from the other side of Santana's remarkably large bed after rolling around to face the Latina.

Santana tried to cover the speaker, but with no success 'cause the blonde on the other side of the line heard as clear as day when the doctor replied lowly, "No one, go back to sleep." And the groggy brunette with semi-closed eyes did just so.

That hurt and took Brittany's breath away far more than any punch in the gut ever could. She blinked rapidly and felt nauseated.

"Who was that?" The dancer mustered up the courage to ask weakly. She wanted and didn't want to know what a woman was doing in Santana's hotel suite at that hour.

"No one," Santana replied quickly, not understanding why she suddenly felt so guilty. It was a ridiculous thought. There was nothing left between her and the blonde except for Zoey and a dubious friendship.

Brittany would have thought the Latina's remark funny in an ironic way; that is if the situation wasn't so damn tragic. Right then a paralyzing thought took her brain hostage and she had to shakily say, "Oh, God, please tell me that is not Evelyn. Not Evelyn Hearst..." And her brain assumed the driver's seat, flooding her senses with images of Evelyn undressing Santana, and Santana undressing the tall woman… The nausea just increased with full force as the blonde tried to shake those awful images.

This was starting to feel awkward. Santana sighed and said lowly while staring at her knees, "Not that it's any of your business…" Pause. "But it's not Evelyn. It's a friend of one of Jimmy's friends, Kate something." She looked back briefly to see if the woman was hearing, but she was dead asleep.

"It's not Kate _Middleton_, is it?" Brittany deadpanned with surprise.

"Who?" Santana asked rhetorically with confusion, furrowing her brows. The brunette wasn't exactly an expert on current events. "No, her name's Kate Silverstone or Firestone, something with 'stone' in it, I'm not sure. We didn't do much talking," she rambled on impatiently.

"Oh," the dancer murmured absentmindedly. They remained in silence for a long while, both women processing everything. Brittany finally broke it, "I guess I, uh, should let you get back to whatever you two were doing." Her tone was more bitter, gloomier and hurtful than she had intended.

Santana let out a deep sigh and replied with architected poise, "Alright. Bye, Brittany."

"Bye, San," Brittany said with a voice so broken that it did things to the brunette's insides. She couldn't help herself. The instinct of protecting Brittany was too ingrained in the cells of her being, and regardless of the fact that she was fighting it… the battle was far from won.

"Wait," Santana let out despite herself, and she internally kicked her own ass. People told the brunette before that Brittany had her whipped, but she always dismissed it as a scandalous lie. Right at that moment she wasn't so sure. Perhaps they had been right all along, 'cause the words that were about to come from her mouth were irrefutable proof even to her former deluded self.

The Latina added, bringing her knees up to rest her chin on them, "I don't know why I'm saying this, but…" she closed her eyes, "…nothing happened. Nothing happened between me and Kate, ok?" Brittany felt like a huge elephant had been lifted from her chest, and she could finally breathe again. She wasn't sure, and the blonde mentally scolded herself for it, but she suspected a small twisted smile reached her lips. "We only fooled around some, but in the nick of time I couldn't go through with it. I just… wasn't ready," Santana stated dejectedly, opening up her eyes again. She couldn't be with another woman yet. "I was a bit tipsy and she was definitely more than just tipsy, so I just let her stay the night instead of sending the girl out to grab a cab in the middle of the night."

Brittany digested the information and said lowly, "I understand, San. It was hard for me too when –"

The doctor interrupted the dancer abruptly, "I really don't feel like listening to your opening up story now, Britt." It wasn't a harsh statement, just a tired plea.

"Ok," Brittany uttered in earnest. She _did_ understand.

"But you should know that it will happen, Britt," Santana said despondently with sincerity. "And if I have any will power left… it'll be sooner rather than later."

"I know," was all the dancer could say in the same fashion as the brunette did seconds before.

"Goodbye, Britt."

"Goodnight, San."

They hung up, and Brittany placed her cell on the coffee table. She sat there on the sofa for a moment more to adjust to all the information. After a couple of minutes the blue-eyed woman got up and started tip-toeing back to her bedroom, unsure of how she truly felt. 'Empty' came to her mind, 'though. She stealthily slid back under the covers not to wake Jenna up, but as both women lay in the dark with their backs to each other Jenna opened up ambiguous eyes and slowly closed them after a handful of seconds.

* * *

><p>Santana rescheduled her flight from Sunday to Friday evening and said goodbye to her three disappointed friends. She stopped for one last purchase on her way to the airport and back "home". New York wasn't the answer to all her prayers, after all. She didn't belong to Lima… but she didn't belong to New York either. She was stuck in a fucking no man's land, in a disturbing godforsaken limbo. Turned out her sense of belonging wasn't attached to a specific <em>place<em>, but rather to a specific _person_. And deep down the brunette always knew that to be true. However, she dearly wished to be proven wrong _once_ in her life – always the know-it-all. But yeah, it didn't happen. If wishes were horses, everyone would be knee deep in crap; and at _that_ she was. But she had Zoey – her lifeline – and the mere thought of her daughter was enough to make her happier and wanting to get back to Lima to be by her side. It was the only thought that brought the brunette some peace of mind.

The brown-eyed woman boarded the plane and proceeded to try to put her handbag in the compartment above head level. The guy who would be flying beside her rose to his feet with a smile and said, "Let me help you with that."

"No, it's fine. I got it," Santana replied with a hint of annoyance as she successfully placed the bag inside the compartment and closed it.

The guy nodded with a smile still in place and got back to his window seat. Santana took hers by the aisle beside him without offering as much as a small glance towards her seat-mate.

"Since we'll be stuck in each other's company for the next couple of hours…" he said offhandedly, outstretching his hand to the brunette with a charming smile, "…I'm Scott. Campbell."

Santana inspected the raven-haired man's offered hand for a few seconds, and finally shook on it before saying flatly, "Santana Lopez."

"Beautiful _and_ unusual name," the guy in his mid-thirties stated without dropping the smile.

"Thanks," the Latina curtly replied, and promptly took the cell phone out of jacket's pocket, ignoring the man's attempt to strike further conversation. The brunette called Brittany, she needed to tell her she would be arriving earlier and, truth be told, she kinda wanted to hear the blue-eyed woman's voice for some reason. Their late night talk had left her a bit shaken, and when she was like that Brittany was the only person she ever approached to talk. This time the dancer was part of the problem, but it didn't matter. She still couldn't fight the urge.

"Hello?" Came the unfamiliar voice through the phone.

"Brittany?" Santana replied with furrowed brows.

"No, it's Jenna," the petite blonde stated nonchalantly.

"Oh," the Latina uttered, not knowing what to say exactly as she was taken aback by surprise.

"Brittany is in the shower," the green-eyed woman volunteered, and Santana's brain went crazy with the information as it deviously associated 'Brittany', 'Jenna', 'shower', and 'nakedness'. "Can I give her a message?"

"No, no, no…" Santana mumbled whilst shaking her head to get rid of those nasty images, "I'll just, uh, call her later. Thanks."

"Ok," was all Jenna could say before the doctor quickly ended the call and settled for sending the blue-eyed woman a brief text to inform about her flight change.

Santana turned her cell off, put it back in her pocket and started thinking. _Not_ a good thing. Jenna's presence was once again shoved back into light when her brain tried so hard to keep it in the vastest abyss of darkness. And it pissed her off because all she had been looking for was Brittany – in more ways than one.

Turning sideways to the guy beside her with a newfound congeniality, the brunette doctor asked with a smile on her face, "What was your name again?" And Santana took the time to really check out the guy for the first time: medium black shiny hair, slightly layered; dark black eyes; tall, but not gigantic; sexy scruffy stubble; definitely lean; strong face; and a chin dimple, which Santana always found a turn-on… Yeah, he was clearly _very_ easy on the eyes.

"Scott Campbell," the tall man replied firmly in his light grey suit and pale blue dress-shirt, casting the book he took upon reading aside.

"Yeah, that's it. Well, nice to meet you, _Scott Campbell_," the Latina said with an easy tone, nodding her head for emphasis. Yeah, she could _definitely_ work with that.

"You, too, Santana," Scott stated picking his charming smile back up, clearly remembering her name as the flight took off.

Santana and Scott had been engaged in a pleasant conversation for most part of their flight.

"So, you're a doctor?" The brunette asked and he nodded to confirm. "What a coincidence, me too," she added casually.

"Really?" The raven-haired man asked with a grin, and it was the Latina's turn to nod her confirmation. "What specialty?"

"Plastic surgeon," Santana offered promptly, nursing a drink that sat on her airline table tray. "You?"

"Ophthalmologist," Scott replied, doing the same to his drink. "So, you live in New York?"

"I used to… but now I'm in Ohio. What about you?"

"Yeah, I live in New York… although now I'm not so sure about it," the male doctor said and received a puzzled look from the female doctor. So, he explained with a laugh, "Don't worry, I'm not crazy. _Yet_, anyhow. It's just that I just subleased my place in New York because next Monday I'm off to Cambodia with 'Doctors Without Borders'. So, I'm a little lost right now."

"That's amazing! How long will you stay?" Santana said with enthusiasm, taking a sip of the drink.

"One year," Scott ceremoniously replied with a tight-lipped smile and a nod.

"Wow, that's a long time," the Latina mused, matching the man's smile.

"Yeah, I'm on my way to Pennsylvania, where I'm originally from, to say goodbye to my parents personally. My mom is convinced I'm going to die over there," the ophthalmologist stated with a laugh.

Santana laughed as well, "Well, I guess it's understandable."

"So, we can always use extra doctors. How do you feel about an adventure?"

"Well, you have no idea how tempting that offer would be, Scott…" Santana began honestly, thinking about how much distance and perspective would do her good considering her current situation, "…_if_ I didn't have an almost four year old girl back home."

"Oh, you're married?" Scott asked, not even bothering to disguise his disappointment. He was sure he had checked earlier for a wedding ring and found none.

"Divorced, actually," Santana calmly replied, secretly pleased by the man's previous disappointment and his instant smile after her answer. She still totally got it. "What about you?" she added in a calculated blasé tone.

"Single. My girlfriend and I broke up a few months ago," he offered, swirling his drink around the glass before locking black eyes with brown ones. "Neither of us believes in long distant relationships," Scott added sincerely, running a hand through his abundant hair, which got Santana's attention.

_He is definitely attractive_, she thought. Santana had always been attracted, that is, _sexually_ attracted to both girls and guys. And she had always thought that if that substitute teacher back in high school was right, and it wasn't about who you were sexually attracted to, but who you fell in love with; she, Santana, wasn't exactly a heterosexual _or_ a homosexual. She was a Brittanysexual 'cause the dancer was the only person she could ever fall in love with. She knew that since she first fell. Santana knew it then and she knew it now. Normal labels were useless to her.

"So, what about you? Are you single now?" Scott added, flashing the brunette his best charm smile.

"Yes, very much so," Santana replied with a deliberate coy smile.

"Ah, I don't believe it for a second," Scott said dismissively with a wave of hand. "I mean, a gorgeous woman like yourself can't possibly be single," he added flirtatiously with a sexy smirk.

"Doctor Campbell, are you trying to sweet talk me?" the Latina asked with a flirtatious tone of her own, raising an eyebrow at the man beside her.

"I don't know… Is it working?"

"Maybe yes, maybe no…"

They heard the flight attendant announcing on the speaker that they would be touching down in Pennsylvania in fifteen minutes, and Santana knew it was then or never. She may not have been ready for another woman. The comparison would simply be unbearable. But a man? That was an entirely different ball game, and she was feeling it. After all, it had been almost four years, for crying out loud!

"So, Scott, are you a member of the Mile High Club?" Santana asked seductively, downing the rest of her drink at once, and before he could answer she leaned over and whispered something in his ear that made him gulp and smile.

Santana got up from her seat and slowly made her way to the plane's bathroom. She entered the cubicle, leaving the door unlocked and stared at her image in the mirror until she heard the door being opened and Scott swiftly stepping inside. Next thing she knew… their lips were crashing against one another's.

Less than ten minutes later Santana was sitting back on her seat, moments later Scott had joined her. They smiled at each other.

After a comfortable silence, Scott finally asked with a sweet smile, "What do you say you give me your number, Santana?"

Santana inhaled deep and replied softly, matching the man's smile, "Listen, Scott, this was incredibly nice... Let's not ruin it with promises. Just let chance lead us, is that ok?"

"Ok," the male doctor replied serenely, offering Santana his hand, which she promptly took it and he brought their joined hands to his lips to lay a sweet kiss on the back of her hand like a gentleman. Santana didn't go around sleeping with strangers, but she needed that and Scott was a very nice guy. Perfect for the task. Someone she didn't already know, and whom she probably would never see again.

Scott disembarked on Pennsylvania with a sweet farewell and Santana's plane went on headed to Ohio. The Latina kept thinking of Scott's large hands roaming through body, his stubble grazing against her skin, his coordinated and skillful movements… They have had great sex. It was undeniable. They have had sex, but it was far from _making love_. She had only ever made love to _one_ person in her lifetime, and she was sure that fact would never change, all things considered. Santana was ok with it, 'though. At least she had taken the first step. She had dipped her toe on the scary water… and it wasn't as cold as she imagined it to be.

* * *

><p><strong>I know some of you were against it, but it had to happen... Sorry, but it's for the best.<strong>  
><strong>Express yourself: review ;)<strong>


	10. Chapter 10

****Disclaimer**: **I don't own _Glee _nor its original characters (if I did it would probably be called _The Brittany and Santana Show_, and all the other characters would only be there to help advance their plot).

**A/N: **Alright, I have excellent news, good news and bad news for you lovely folks today… Let's start with the positive ones! The excellent news: whoa, over 500 reviews… You guys are AMAZING! Thanks for the love, support, kind words _and_ reproaching words as well! It all means a lot to me. The good news: this chapter came really early, don't you think? And it's the longest thus far. A little treat for you guys to make up for the bad news… which I'll leave for _after_ the new chapter. I know, I'm a tease :D

Ok, I knew parts of this chapter would ruffle some people's feathers (since I have pretty specific and set ways to view Brittany/Santana) but I couldn't imagine it would be _this_ much.  
><em>Controversy <em>*sing-song voice* :)

First things first, 'though… A couple of reviewers pointed out, or implied, that I have been sort of condescending in my author's note thingy in the past. And I have to say that although I don't recall it... I don't doubt it. I'm _absolutely_ sorry for that. Mortified even. Thanks for bringing it to my attention. Honestly. It's an occupational hazard and I do it unconsciously. Years of learning that you should pulverize your counterparts' points in an "argument" will do that to you. Being incredibly stubborn paired with believing in what I'm writing don't help either, I suppose. Regardless, I apologize _profusely_ to whomever (probably more than one person) I directed my condescending remarks. I shall check myself from now on.

Now, onto bigger topics: your disapproving of the latest developments and the labels deal. You guys really take your labeling seriously, don't you? Joking aside, I sincerely meant _no_ offense to any of you. I have nothing but respect for gays, lesbians, bis, etc., and for Santana's struggle to find out and accept herself for who she is. I still stand by my statement that I find Santana to be "Brittanysexual", 'though (or _Brittsexual_: sounds better). I loved and agreed with that line from GOOP girl that said that 'ultimately it isn't about whom you find sexually attractive, but who you fall in love with' (pardon my paraphrasing). And I honestly believe that Santana can _only _fall in love with Brittany. It's hard to explain to others how you personally see a character; everyone sees them through their own eyes, after all. But the way _I_ see Santana, and I'm talking about the real character in the show (I'm sorry but I'm not familiar with the terms 'canon' or 'AU' and all that stuff, but I think I assumed the general idea correctly from your reviews); I _personally_ see her as someone who has real trouble falling in love. It's not something that comes easily to her considering how guarded she is. However, Brittany is her exception. The only one able to penetrate those walls. I always thought that Joni Mitchell was right. Love _is_ touching souls (at least it was _supposed_ to be in an ideal world) and I doubt anyone else other than Brittany will ever touch Santana's. That's what got me interested in the pairing in the first place. That specific sacrosanct notion of meant-to-be love and all that jazz. Anyhow, since Brittany is a woman and so is Santana, I can agree and state that Santana is lesbian... for Brittany. I still can't shake GOOP girl's line and disassociate love from this labeling process thing. That was kinda confusing. I don't know if you're getting what I'm trying to say… Regardless, the writers haven't shown me that Santana doesn't find guys sexually attractive. She sleeps with them all the time, even if it is to climb the school's social status ladder. I haven't seen her being appalled/turned-off by the act or anything like that. If there was such a scene I apologize because I've missed it, and since I only watch Brittany/Santana and not the whole show, it is an actual possibility. Please, do let me know if I'm mistaken and there was a scene like that. Yes, she admitted she's a lesbian... _because_ she loves Brittany. Until she falls in love with another girl, I would like to hang on to the idea that she is gay for Britt. It's more romantic and closer to the idea I hold of them as a couple in my head. So, considering all this, the sleeping with Scott deal seems realistic to me and in-character. _Especially_ since it was meant to be something devoid of feelings. A fugue, a simple escapism if you will. Just sex, you know? Pure and physical. She isn't ready for another woman… _yet_. Don't worry, she'll get there (_oops_, spoiler there!). Now, if it had been with another woman things would be different. Feelings would have actually been a possibility (the caring type, I mean, not love), and in that spectrum I also agree that her sexuality scale tilts more towards lesbian. Anyways, if it had been with a woman it would have more meaning and that would be the time Brittany would really have to start worrying. That is why the sex with a man deal _needed_ to happen. It was one of those things that will pan out in the future if you are patient enough to wait and see. I'm not winging it here. All these steps are part of the story and part of the women's journey to find each other again. Eventually. In due time.  
>I guess what it all comes down to is that I place more importance on the BrittanySantana epic relationship/love-story (and I may have farfetched and idealized it in my mind) than on labels and sexuality. The latter pales in comparison to the former, in my humble opinion. Let the Glee writers do that, I say. God knows they desperately want to work that angle for award purposes.  
>Most people understood what I just explained, but I hope that testament clarified stuff a bit for the ones who didn't. And that if you don't agree with my views, you can at least understand where I'm coming from and know I mean <strong><em>no disrespect or offense whatsoever<em>**. It's important to me that everybody knows this, and that is why I took the time to explain evrything. I also hope you don't give up on the story. _But _if you can't stomach that move, I understand as well. The fic has a long way to go, and if there is any doubt still: YES, B/S will come together again.  
>Oh, another important thing: there will be no baby coming from Santana's hook-up. God, I haven't even <em>considered<em> that! All of you are absolutely right. It would be completely and utterly contrived and cheesy. No way will I go down that route. Well, I do use 'cheesy' every once in a while, but that's too much fromage even for me! Rest assured that they used protection like any responsible adults out there. Did you hear that, kids? Always use a rubber!  
>Jeez, I thought more about sexuality in the last few minutes than I have… in my <em>entire<em> life! *lol* This is good… this debate thing, this back-and-forth, this give-and-take, this dialogue… everything is amazing! We should keep this up. Keep hitting the review and voicing your concerns and your points. This feeding off of each other was fantastic. Even you guys' bickering in the reviews, and people wanting to ring my neck and maybe even shout a couple profanities my way… it was _all_ awesome! I love myself some bickering… As long as we keep playing nice and classy like we have been thus far, that is. No blows below the belt, guys, please. And thanks to those defending my honour, by the way; well, my _vision_ :D Wow! That was a lot of love. I'm super pumped now! I'm even starting to sound manic, aren't I? Ok, in retrospect (why can't life be lived like that, by the way?), _maybe_I shouldn't have downed those two Red Bulls at once to finish the last quarter of this chapter... I should probably wrap this up here: thank you, awesome people. This has been so much FUN!

Damn, almost forgot I promised extra dedications this chapter! Why do I put myself in these positions is beyond me. Ok, no procrastination, this chapter is dedicated to:  
><strong>JDAnon<strong>, **all4LeynA**, **Amelie**, **Zvedza Town**, and **asher601**, who simply got what I was trying to say and convey. Although, I must say that I think you've been a bit too hard on Brittany, **asher601** :)  
><strong>ChildishDream<strong> and **peebrain**, who _completely_ got what I was trying to say and convey. I mean, to the T. Like you two were actually _in_ my head. Nice _and_ scary! ;)  
><strong>Brittana4Eva<strong>, don't worry you were not rude or bitchy. It's a legitimate question. Besides, I have really thick skin :D Anyhow, to answer your query: no; like I said many times before, I don't watch the whole show just Brittany/Santana. Even 'though we have different views on the characters, mine is more than explained above, I hope this won't deter you from keep reading and leaving your feedback. It's always appreciated :)  
><strong>Dani2606<strong>, thanks for the kind, supportive words. And tell your girlfriend 'thanks' on my behalf. You know that they say that a couple who reads together stays together, right? By 'they' I mean 'I', of course :D  
><strong>C<strong>, I'll see if I can arrange a slow and painful death per your request :D  
><strong>quarian<strong>, sorry for making your eyes well up. And _publicly_ on the way to work, no less! My sincere apologies.  
><strong>ultimategleek<strong>, sorry for breaking your heart. I hope I can mend it nicely by the end of the story.  
><strong>Kdren23<strong>, glad you digged the "Danielle"! Although, I guess Mr. Lopez's boy crush on Danielle Darrieux is the actual responsible for that one.  
><strong>pacific firebrand<strong>, because I love a huge-ass reviews. And you totally caught the goodbye/goodnight thing! It will come into play again later in the story. Nice catch! Oh, it also looks like your song request shall be fulfilled in this chapter. Do you have a crystal ball or something? :D

Ok, I think I made up enough already! Onto the new chapter, and sorry for rambling too much... I just thought it was necessary after last chapter's reactions. Plus, I should end this also apologizing in advance for not only butchering _one_ language but TWO in this chapter. My Spanish is really, _really_ rusted and the language comes into play heavily in this chapter. Lo siento :)

* * *

><p><strong>Mischances, Stances and Stolen Glances<br>**_||Chapter Ten||_

Santana arrived in Dayton late that evening and Danes was already there to pick her up. They had set up before Santana left to New York that he would give her a ride on Sunday, but when the brunette decided to come earlier she called him to see if he still could do it, and he promptly agreed to. The Asian man, with straight black hair that ended just above chin length, dropped the doctor at her place and helped unload her massive luggage from his old-school Jeep Wrangler with a quip about how much she had to spend on excessive baggage. After they were done, Santana offered to buy him a drink for being such a "stand-up chauffeur". So, they made their way to the only bar Santana knew: Charlie's.

Danes and Santana entered the joint, which was more crowded than the first day she went there, and took a seat on a couple of stools by the bar. Puck was behind it and came to them.

"Couldn't keep away huh, Lopez?" Puck smugly asked, wiping his hands on a dish towel that had its tip stuffed in his jeans' hem.

"From the booze? No, I couldn't," Santana shot back with venom.

Seeing the guy sitting beside the Latina the bartender said with mock amusement, "Oh, I see you brought a gentleman friend… Are you on a date or something?"

"None of your damn business," the brunette replied quickly and curtly.

Taking in the interaction, Danes piped in with a small smile, "I take it you two know each other." Puck nodded and Santana simply shrugged. The Asian added, outstretching his hand across the bar to Puck, "I'm Bradley Danes, Santana's former physiotherapist and current chauffer."

Puck shook on it and replied playfully in the same fashion as Danes, "Noah Puckerman, Santana's former flame and current object of desire."

Santana laughed out loud sarcastically and said, "You're so hilarious, Puck… and _severely_ delusional. I can refer you to one of my psychiatric friends if you wish." Then she looked sideways at Danes and added flatly, "I know him from another life, a.k.a. high school."

"Interesting…" Danes trailed on with a mischievous smile on his face. "Any embarrassing stories you care to share?" he added, looking at the barkeep and receiving a glare from the Latina.

Puck was about to reply with a smirk on his face but she didn't give him a chance as she replied rapidly, "Nooo, we're not _that_ drunk… _yet_." The three smiled lightly, and Santana added, "On that note, I'd like a glass of chardonnay, please."

The bartender laughed and stated matter-of-factly, "It's either red or white, princess."

Santana scowled and announced in a huff, "White, then." The two turned their attention to the physiotherapist.

"I'll have a bottle of Bud," Danes said simply, as the brunette turned her stool slightly from side to side.

"Coming right up," Puck stated and went about to get their orders.

"You know, Puck, if I'm going to keep dropping by this joint you better start keeping a supply of chardonnay and merlot around. Knowing how to make a few drinks wouldn't hurt either," Santana said a bit louder so the bartender could hear across the bar whilst getting their orders.

"I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you," the barkeep quipped.

"Where's the gratitude, dude? I _am_ bringing you more customers," the Latina replied slyly, tilting her head towards Danes' side.

"More pain in my ass? Yeah, thank you very much," Puck countered and the brunette doctor smiled lightly, turning her entire attention back to the physiotherapist.

Santana and Danes engaged in an easy talk and when the barkeep returned he heard the brunette doctor say to the Asian man, "So, you're ready for tomorrow?"

Cutting in and placing the drinks in front of them, Puck said playfully, "Hmm, ready for tomorrow, huh? Arranging yourself some monkey business there, Santana?"

"You're disgusting; you know that, right?" Santana asked with a scrunched up face. "In fact, I think it's a _Noah_ thing. Yeah, I just had a breakthrough… _All_ Noahs are douchebags! And I'm happy to inform you that I know your soulmate, Puck. He lives in New York, he's a doctor, he isn't too hard on the eyes, and his name is Noah Tyler. You two are _meant_ for each other. I've just arrived from the Big Apple and I can totally confirm he's currently single. I'll be more than happy to give you his number," she added with satisfaction and a grin.

"Should I laugh? _You're_ the one who cuts both ways, sister," Puck shot back lightheartedly as Santana took a sip of her wine whilst scowling at the bartender, and Danes drank his beer.

"Actually, we could use an extra set of hands tomorrow at your place, Santana," Danes said, looking sideways at the brunette.

"Sorry, bro; I only do threesomes with two chicks and the Pucksaurus. I don't cross swords," Puck slyly put it with an apologetically look on his eyes as he quickly went on to grab some guy a beer.

Shaking her head Santana said sternly, without dropping the scowl, "Jeez, Puck! Does your mind come out of the gutter, like, _ever_?" She then took a big gulp of her wine. "Danes meant that we could use an extra set of hands to paint my kid's room."

"Right, you've got a little girl," the barkeep said wistfully, and he and Santana exchanged a knowing look that was lost on Danes. Shaking off the bittersweet thought, he added after a beat, "So, what is in it for me?"

"The same that is in it for me and Danny: a six-pack," the physiotherapist replied with a wide grin, working his best faux-excited tone before downing a big amount of his beer.

"Wow, with such a prize like that…" Puck trailed on sarcastically, looking from Danes to Santana.

"What can I say? I like my cheap labor," Santana said dismissively, running a hand through her soft hair. "If you three play your cards right I may even throw some pizza in the deal."

"So, what do you say, Puck? You're in or you're out?" Danes asked finishing his beer bottle.

"I guess I could do with Santana owing me one," Puck replied with a sly smile.

"I'll owe you nothing, Puck!" the Latina exclaimed as the barkeep served a couple of other customers without dropping the smile. "Don't go getting any gross ideas." After a beat she downed the rest of her wine and added, "I'll see you at nine in the morning tomorrow. Don't be late!" She turned to Danes and said, "Let's roll, I can't stay long."

Santana paid for the drinks and then she and Danes left the bar. The physiotherapist gave her a quick ride home and went to his place. Tomorrow they would have a busy day.

* * *

><p>Saturday morning as Santana approached Brittany's house in her car she already could spot Zoey from a small distance. It brought a big smile to her face. The kid sat at the door's threshold and Santana's heart skipped a beat with the notion that she was waiting impatiently for her. She had called Brittany that morning to ask if she could have their daughter for the weekend, since she planned on putting together a bedroom for the kid. The blonde promptly agreed and there Santana was, arriving to pick her up. Her day had started early with having to go out to buy paint before the guys arrived to do the job. Not being a morning person the brunette had been slightly cranky, but just the sight of her daughter made everything happy and fuzzy again. Zoey spotted the Range Rover and came running as fast as a bullet, stopping abruptly at the small white gate. Brittany had <em>specifically <em>told her that she was allowed to wait at the door, _as long as_ she didn't pass the yard's gate. So, she made sure to obey. Zoey didn't want to have her further rights to wait for Santana outside revoked.

The brunette doctor parked the car right in front of the dancer's house and got out with a huge digital camera slung across her neck. She could see Zoey jumping up and down behind the gate with a grin plastered on her adorable little face.

Making her way to the sidewalk Santana stopped and asked with a grin as wide as her daughter's, "What? Don't I get a big hug jump after being away for so long?"

"Mommy said I can't go through the gate," Zoey replied, dropping the grin as Santana smiled at Brittany's great parenting skills. It never got old to her.

"That was only for when you had no grown-ups watching you, sweetie. You can go to your mama now," Brittany said with a smile as she came through the front door of the house.

Zoey didn't have to be told twice. She threw herself into Santana's arms with the grin back in place.

"I've missed you _so_ much, baby," Santana cooed in the sweetest of tones, bringing her face back from the hug to inspect her daughter's beautiful face.

"Me, too," Zoey replied, sloppily kissing the brunette's cheek.

Santana put her down as Brittany caught up with them at the sidewalk.

"Look at you," the doctor said ceremoniously without dropping the smile, looking her daughter up and down. "I think you have grown a little while I was away, haven't you?" she added seriously, squinting her eyes a bit. Santana knew she hasn't, but the kid nodded profusely anyway. Pleased to be told so.

"She definitely did," Brittany reinforced with a smile, making Zoey beam even more in her skirt and leggings.

"See, I told you I'd be back in a flash. Didn't I come back fast?" Santana asked, looking down into the girl's blue eyes, which looked especially blue with the sun hitting on them.

"Not _really_ fast," Zoey replied bluntly, looking up at her mama.

Santana and Brittany laughed out loud at their daughter's honesty, and the kid seemed proud to be making them laugh.

"You came back earlier," Brittany stated tenderly, locking eyes with Santana, who held the blonde's stare for the first time since she got there. For no apparent reason thoughts of Scott and their bathroom activities came flushing to her head. Why was she getting rushes of guilt? She had nothing to be guilty for. She swatted the thoughts away and the blonde could see something weird flashing through the doctor's eyes. The dancer's mind went straight to Kate something and their phone talk.

Shaking her head to get rid of the thoughts Santana replied, plastering a smile on her face, "Yeah, I missed this one right here too much." And she leaned down whilst balancing the camera to bring Zoey closer to her body and lay a soft kiss on her daughter's head, making the little girl wrap her arms around the Latina's leg in a hug.

Brittany's own thoughts were scared away by that sight, and her heart was filled with utter joy and satisfaction. She could not help it. Those scenes _really_ never did get old.

Zoey let go of the Latina's leg and the woman started moving to the passenger's front door of her car. "I've got you this, baby…" She opened up the door and retrieved a massive stuffed yellow duck, closing it again after. The thing was huge, about as tall as the little girl, who was already _very_ tall for her age. Those Pierce genes…

Handing the ginormous duck to Zoey the little brunette girl felt something for the first time in her life: _speechlessness_. So, she simply squealed with sheer glee whilst smiling and hugging the stuff out of the duck.

Shooting a few photos of their daughter, Santana said with a pleased smile on her face, "I take it you like it, then."

Zoey found her voice again. It couldn't last long anyway. "I _love_ him!" She exclaimed, rubbing cheek to cheek with the stuffed animal while hugging him. An adorable sight that only made the Latina snap even more photos of their oblivious daughter.

"Aww… he's the cutest," Brittany gushed with a sweet smile, watching her beautiful daughter strangle the duck. And then she added playfully, shifting her gaze to a camera-frantic Santana with a laugh, "You're gonna blind our child, San."

"Bought it in New York. I still have to read the manual, 'though. I don't know how to work the flash thing yet," the brunette doctor replied matter-of-factly, turning the neck-bound camera in her hands in different angles, trying to inspect the huge gadget.

"So, what are you going to call him, Z?" The dancer asked with interest, looking down at her daughter, who couldn't stop hugging and cuddling the duck.

"Sparkles!" The kid replied with enthusiasm, patting the soft plush of the yellow duck's head.

"_Another_ one? That is getting too confusing, Z," Santana piped in, smiling while exchanging looks with Brittany.

"Rainbow, then," Zoey said absentmindedly, more preoccupied with laying a kiss on his cheek.

"Think outside the box, mi hija," the Latina replied with a chuckle, still looking at the blonde instead of her daughter.

"Candy!" The little girl nearly shouted, looking up at her mommies to see if they were happy already with her chosen name.

"Candy? Yeah, that's a nice name. Isn't it, San?" Brittany asked charmingly, smiling for effect.

"Very nice. Candy it is. I think that makes 'it' a 'she', huh?" Santana replied playfully.

"What do you say to your mama, Zoey?" the blonde asked with familiarity as she looked down at their daughter.

"Thank you!" Zoey replied with similar familiarity. It was a well known ritual. And then the little girl started to run around the front yard with her prized new possession. It was a difficult task considering the size of the animal, but she was making it due. Santana took more candid photos whilst grinning widely.

"So, how did the practicals turn out? I never got the chance to ask," Brittany asked, bringing her gaze from Zoey to Santana.

"Great. Passed with flying colours," the Latina answered flatly, turning her gaze also to the blonde. "I start at the hospital on Monday."

"That's great news!" The dancer replied with a bright smile. After a silent beat she added softly, "I tried calling you and reply to your text last night, but I couldn't get through to you."

"Yeah, I had to turn it off for the flight and forgot to turn it back on later."

"I wanted to offer to pick you up at the airport. Who drove you home?"

"Danes did. I had it all arranged with him already," Santana said, averting her stare to the running Zoey. "There was no need to trouble you late at night," she added with a tinge of bitterness, still unable to hold the blonde's stare.

"It is no trouble," Brittany replied softly, a little hurt by the fact that the Latina continued to try to push her away. After a beat she added weakly and with a tad of frustration, "_When_ will you see that?"

At that line Santana's brown eyes fell slowly into blue ones. She had always feared she would drown in them one day. She decided to ignore the dancer's last question, 'though. She had no answer to that, after all. So, she said instead, "I should probably head back home. Speaking of Danes, he and the other two are there painting Zoey's room. Thanks for letting her come with me, by the way."

"Always," the blue-eyed woman replied with such honesty and tenderness that Santana felt like kissing the sense out of her right there and then. Not that she would follow through on that enticing idea, of course. "Danes knows painting?" The blonde added with surprise.

"Not really, I guess. Danny is the one heading the whole operation. Apparently his dad was a house painter –" the doctor began but was interrupted by the blonde.

"His dad died?" Brittany asked sadly, almost pouting.

"No, just retired," Santana shot back quickly, unable to contain a small smile at the dancer's sweetness. Brittany smiled back with relief. "Anyway, his dad was a house painter and Danny used to work with him on summers way back when. So, he knows what he's doing _and_ already has all the painting stuff. Leftovers from his hardware store I've been told. Danes and Puck…" Brittany's ears shot up at the sound of that second name, "…are just muscle power. You know… cheap labor. It's amazing what guys will do for a six-pack," Santana added smugly with a smile, even 'though she knew they were doing it for her, not for the free beer.

"_Puck's_ helping?" The blue-eyed woman asked with shock, unconsciously placing one hand on her waist. "I didn't know you two were talking." Great, now she was starting to feel jealous again. It seemed like everybody entering Santana's life was a possible threat and trigger. _Especially_ Puck, well, she knew Santana had always had zero interest in him, but the blonde still harbored irrational feelings of rejection and angst that dated way back to high school when the formerly mohawked boy was concerned. Words like 'lizard', 'digest' and 'food' came rushing through her mind.

"Well, I had a few drinks at his bar, nothing much. But cheap labor is cheap labor, I don't care where it comes from," the Latina said aloofly, turning to take another photo of Zoey who was then sort of riding Candy a few feet away.

"Good," Brittany said a bit too pleased with the answer, and it made the doctor wonder if the dancer was feeling another tinge of jealousy. "Because he's a pig. You know that, right?" she added with annoyance at the thought of _Puck_, placing the other hand on her waist.

"Oh, I never doubted it," Santana quipped with a smile and the blonde matched it, feeling more at easy. "Have you talked to him lately?" She added nonchalantly. Santana knew Brittany hadn't. Puck had told her so, but she had to keep her pretense and not let any room for the blonde to wonder if she and the bartender had talked about her. _Yes_, the brunette was neurotic and completely aware of it.

"Nothing but friendly 'hellos' when bumping into each other," Brittany said, finally taking the hands from her waist as the Latina nodded her understanding.

"I should really get going now. Rosa is supervising them but only _I_ know how to properly crack the whip," the brunette doctor said playfully with a smile. After a quick beat she added, "_Oh_, I was almost forgetting the best thing…" She looked at Zoey and called out, "Hey, baby, get here for a second."

Zoey came running back, doing her best to balance Candy on her arms, and looked up at her mommies expectantly.

"I've got you something else, Zo," Santana said with a pleased smile while going to the back of the Range Rover, followed closely by Brittany and their daughter.

"What is it?" Zoey asked with sparkling eyes and an ear to ear grin.

"I guess you'll just have to see for yourself," the brunette said with a grin, opening up the trunk while the other two ladies watched curiously.

As the trunk's door went up, and the Latina flapped the bottom part down, all three got to see the small puppy Beagle sitting there. Zoey started to jump up and down because she didn't know how to express her complete excitement otherwise. Brittany simply gushed as Santana took photos of the kid's adorable reaction. _What?_ She had to catch up on documenting her daughter's life.

"So, what do you think, Z?" Santana asked enthused, looking sideways at the kid.

"Is it mine?" Zoey asked with caution and wide blue eyes, wondering for the first time if she was getting overexcited over something that wasn't really hers.

"Of course," the brunette doctor chuckled, taking Candy from her and helping the little girl climb up the trunk to play with the energetic puppy. The Latina placed the large stuffed duck on the corner of the spacious trunk.

"I love you, mama!" The kid stated without taking her eyes from the puppy Beagle.

"Aww, gift induced love declarations... Aren't those nice?" Santana joked with a grin, locking eyes with the dancer, who just shook her head dismissively. Both knew the kid's declaration was genuine.

"_And_ Jesus!" Zoey amended, patting the puppy.

Brittany furrowed her brows. Santana simply laughed and stated, "Long story."

Santana and Brittany took a seat at the trunk's bottom flap to watch their daughter shower the small puppy with affection and adoration.

"You are spoiling her, you know?" Brittany reproached the doctor softly, but her smile gave her up.

"Well, cut me some slack, I've got _three_ birthdays to make up for," Santana replied offhandedly, looking into blue eyes as she matched the blonde's smile. And then she shifted her gaze to their little girl who giggled as she played with the puppy, and asked, "What will you name her, bug?"

"Aww, it's a 'she'?" The dancer cooed in question, to which the brunette woman nodded.

Zoey replied loudly, "Sparkles!"

Brittany and Santana laughed. "Haven't we had this talk before, mi hija? Think of something else, will you?" The Latina said playfully.

The kid was about to say 'Rainbow', but stopped before uttering the word. Then she looked up in thought, pondered for a while and exclaimed, "Popsicle, then!"

"Isn't that a bit too long?" Santana mused out loud as she took a few more photos of Zoey with the puppy.

"Poppy, then! I think it's cute," Brittany piped in with a wide toothy grin.

"Poppy…" the Latina trailed on, feeling the name on her lips. And then she smiled and added, "Yeah, Poppy, I like it. What about you, Zoey?"

Zoey nodded profusely, cuddling the puppy as she said, "Poppy, doggie!"

"So, it's settled," the brown-eyed woman stated with a grin. Her face was starting to hurt from smiling and grinning too much.

Suddenly a thought came to Brittany. The blue-eyed woman frowned and said, "Oh, San… We can't accept her. I'm sorry, I'm _so_ sorry, but Jenna, uh… she's allergic to dogs and cats."

Zoey looked between her mommies with an alarmed face.

Santana dismissed it quickly with a wave of hand, and replied sarcastically, "Just chill, Britt. I've been informed of that 'unfortunate situation' already. It's Zoey's puppy, but Poppy will be staying at my house."

"Poppy is still my puppy, right?" Zoey asked with blue puppy-dog eyes of her own, wanting to make sure of what just happened.

"Sure," the Latina promptly replied, earning a wide grin from her daughter. "With one condition, 'though," she added, faking seriousness, which the kid completely fell for as she nodded. Brittany simply smiled at their interaction. "Every late afternoon I'll walk Poppy from my place to here and you'll have to walk her with me for a couple of blocks. It'll give us time to talk to each other every day, and it can be our thing, you know, our bonding thing. So, what do you say? Do we have a deal?"

"Deal!" Zoey shouted, too excited to finish a sentence or contain her voice's volume. And then she offered Santana her pinky. The brunette doctor felt a rush of emotions as she looked from her daughter to Brittany, who smiled at her tenderly and with a tacit confirmation in her eyes that in itself said '_yeah, I taught her that_'. Santana wrapped Zoey's tiny pinky finger with her own larger one, and they grinned at each other. Brittany's heart might as well have exploded, because the scene in front of her was too endearing to handle.

"So…" Santana trailed on, reluctantly breaking the moment between the three of them. Well, four, counting Poppy. "We should roll, Z. We've still got lots of furniture and stuff to buy for your room. Grab Poppy, she can ride on your lap on your car seat." Zoey smiled widely at that, totally keen on the idea of not parting ways with the puppy.

"I'll go grab her duffle bag inside," Brittany said getting up as Zoey climbed out of the trunk aided by Santana and with Poppy in her loving arms.

"Oh, don't bother; thank God we won't need 'the' huge duffle anymore, I've got Zoey some clothes in New York as well," Santana replied nonchalantly, slamming the trunk shut as Brittany came to a halt a few steps away from the car. Receiving a pointed look from the dancer the brunette woman added slyly, "Making up, making up… Besides, aren't you glad we won't have to keep exchanging bags every time she stays with me?"

Brittany softened her look and couldn't contain a smile. "Go inside and grab Rainbow, baby," the blue-eyed woman told their daughter. The kid still only slept with the stuffed unicorn, after all.

Zoey reluctantly handed Poppy to her mommy and went to the inside of the house. Santana leaned on the side of the car and watched as Brittany looked down at Poppy in her arms and cuddled the puppy with as much affection as Zoey did moments before. The Latina couldn't help but snap a photo.

"Hey!" Brittany chastised lightheartedly, looking up with a coy smile gracing her features. "I wasn't ready for that," she added tenderly, and Santana couldn't stop herself from feeling a deep pang of… _loss_ within the corners of her soul. At those times she couldn't push back the thoughts of how much she loved that woman.

Taking in the brunette's silence, Brittany asked playfully while inching closer to the doctor, "Did I at least come off decent?"

Coming down from her reverie Santana replied softly, looking down at the photo on the camera's screen, "Perfect." She looked up and brown eyes met crystal blue ones for an instant before averting them. The Latina couldn't hold the loaded stare. Brittany swallowed hard while caressing Poppy, and tried to fight the butterflies that decided to take hold of her stomach.

Santana deliberately shifted her position to open up the car's back door for Zoey, who had just passed through the front door's threshold – and also to escape from the dancer's gaze. As the brunette woman turned around to do so her long hair grazed Brittany's face and the blonde leaned forward a bit to smell that dark soft hair.

Turning back Santana asked with furrowed brows, "Did you just… _smell_ my hair?"

"No?" Brittany chanced tentatively, but was disarmed by doubtful brown orbs. "_Yes_, but the smell is just so familiar," she added in resignation as Zoey switched Rainbow for Poppy with the inattentive blonde. And it was. The scent took her way back and it filled her with warmth for some reason.

"I bought a couple of shampoo bottles at that little shop around –" Santana began saying while helping Zoey get in the car, but she was interrupted by the blonde.

"Around the corner from the practice," Brittany finished her sentence in a wistful tone. _Of course, that was it_; she thought. "I remember it now," she added with a sweet smile, which the Latina matched before turning around to buckle up the kid who was attached to the puppy.

"So… we should go," the brown-eyed woman stated, turning off the camera around her neck and taking it off to place it on the passenger's seat through the open front window.

"Do you need any help with Zoey's room?" The dancer asked hopefully, running a hand through her long hair. Truth be told, she didn't want to part with them. She never ever did.

"No, we're good," the brunette replied calmly, circling the car towards the driver's door. Her resolve clearly still in place... After her latest _stumble_ with the picture, it was more needed than ever.

"Drive safe then," the blue-eyed woman said in low spirits. She stuck her head through the open back window and said to their daughter with a constructed smile whilst placing Rainbow on the back seat, "Have fun, baby! I love you."

"Love you," Zoey replied with a smile, still too excited with Poppy to pay much attention to anything taking place around her.

"See you tomorrow, B," Santana said with a half-smile, looking back at the dancer.

"See ya, S," Brittany replied with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes before watching the car disappear around the corner.

* * *

><p>Santana entered her house with Zoey clinging to her back and Poppy in her arms. The little girl had her arms tightly wrapped around the Latina's neck and her little legs fiercely snaked around the doctor's small waist. Piggyback rides were definitely a thing for the blue-eyed kid, and Santana's back was painfully aware of that fact.<p>

"Rosa?" Santana called out from the foyer as she looked from side to side trying to spot the woman.

"Cocina, Tanita," she heard a small voice traveling throughout the house. Only Rosa could call her _that_ and still live to do it again. The woman had been calling her that her entire life.

She strode to that direction and in no time mother and daughter were arriving at their destination. Rosa stood behind the kitchen island wearing a maid uniform. Santana had told her when she came back to work that she didn't have to wear it anymore, that it was something her _mother_ insisted upon, not _her_. However, Rosa protested and insisted she was already used to it, and the last thing she needed was to disturb Mrs. Lopez's ghost. The maid was _very_ superstitious.

"Hey! Are the guys still at it?" Santana asked, balancing Zoey on her back and the puppy in her arms.

"Sí, yo los dí limonada hace unos minutos," the short maid in her late-fifties replied matter-of-factly whilst drying a dish, but her attention was quickly caught by the kid on the doctor's back. "And who is that criatura hermosa right there, corazón?" The woman with short boy haircut added in question with a wide smile.

"Ah, _ésta_ es mi hija, Zoey," Santana said enthusiastically with a ceremonious tone, matching the older woman's smile while sitting the kid on the kitchen island and placing Poppy on her little lap. "Zoey this is Rosa. She knows me for a long time. Actually, since I was your age," she added, shifting her gaze from Rosa to a charmingly smiling Zoey.

"Aww… cómo és preciosa, Tanita! You and Brittany did a fine job," Rosa gushed, placing the dried dish on the island and inching closer to Zoey to inspect the kid. And then she looked into Zoey's eyes and asked sweetly, "How are you, mi corazón?"

"Good," Zoey replied with a congenial smile as she swung her legs back and forth whilst sitting on top of the kitchen island, patting Poppy's head while Santana went to the fridge and grabbed a small yellow bowl filled with grapes.

"And what's your little friend's name?" the brunette maid asked softly with exacerbated interest as she dropped her gaze to the puppy on the girl's lap. "Such a beautiful little perro…"

"Poppy," the blue-eyed girl quickly offered as Santana came back to her side eating a grape and offering her daughter one, who took it and put it in her mouth with pleasure.

"What a nice name! Muy hermoso," Rosa replied in something akin to a baby voice. "But you're a very skinny kid, Zoey. Your mama is also too delgada," the brown-eyed maid added as she eyed the Latina up and down, receiving an exasperated look from Santana. "And so is Brittany. You three are _all_ in need of Tía Rosa's homemade food," she added, going towards the stove. "I think you two should have some arroz con leche. I just made it, it's still warm," the older woman finished, putting the delicacy into two glass dessert bowls.

"I swear you're trying to get me fat, Rosa," Santana said lightheartedly, discarding the yellow bowl of grapes on the kitchen island. The Latina complained, but she couldn't wait to taste the dessert. Rosa was a fantastic cook. No wonder her mother kept her for that long. "When did you see Brittany?" she added, running a hand through Zoey's long brown hair absentmindedly.

"Oh, she came to say 'hi' when you were in Nueva York, corazón. Martes por la tarde, yo pienso…" Rosa replied absentmindedly while thinking how awful this whole situation was for the once inseparable lovebirds, before handing one glass bowl to each with a bittersweet look on her face.

Santana took Poppy from Zoey so her daughter could eat.

"That's la canela, niña. Cinnamon powder," the older woman added with a smile, informing the little girl who seemed suspicious of the brown powder on top.

Santana was already shoving a spoonful of the treat in her mouth, and then she hummed in utter delight. "It's fantastic, Rosa. Realmente delicioso! _Better_ than I remembered," The Latina gushed, leaning her side on the kitchen island.

Zoey tried some and after swallowing she let out, "Me gusta!" And then she proceeded to eat it faster.

Rosa beamed and so did Santana. "You've been teaching her Spanish, corazón?" The maid asked the younger woman with unabashed glee.

"She picks up really fast," Santana informed with a wide grin, balancing Poppy enough under her arm to eat the dessert. "But that seems to be her favourite sentence. Although it usually has a 'no' in front of it," she added with pride.

"De tal madre, tal hija," Rosa joked through a loud laugh, and the Latina couldn't help but join her.

After mother and daughter finished their delicacy, Santana proclaimed after handing Zoey Poppy back, "Alright, Z and I better go shopping for some furniture. The guys don't know this yet, but they are also putting the bed and the other stuff together for me. So, I must return before they finish up with the painting."

"Can we bring Poppy with us?" Zoey asked hopeful from the top of the kitchen island.

"I don't see why not," the Latina replied and received a wide grin from her daughter. "I've got to grab her leash in my luggage first, 'though. I still haven't unpacked," she added, looking sideways at the girl.

"I already took care of that, Tanita. I put the leash in the foyer's coat closet," Rosa piped in from the kitchen's sink, where she had resumed her work on the dishes.

"What would I do without you, Rosa dearest?" Santana rhetorically asked with a smile on her face and the older woman turned around from the sink to playfully roll her eyes at her antics. "We should be back before lunch, but if not you can order the guys some pizzas, ok?"

"No, no, no…" Rosa hissed, shaking her head. "Ay, Dios Mio! Pizza gives no sustenance. They are men, they need their strength. And you and Zoey need more meat in your bones. I'll make my famous paella," the short-haired woman added in her motherly tone.

"You won't see me complain," Santana quipped with a chuckle while picking up Zoey, with a hug bound Poppy, to put the little girl on the floor. "I'll see you in a few, Rosa," she added warmly and Rosa turned around again from the sink to nod her acknowledgement.

"Vaya con Dios, corazón," Rosa replied automatically. More out of habit than anything.

"Adiós, Rosa," Zoey said out of her own volition, and Santana couldn't help but lean down to place a kiss on the girl's pink cheek.

"Adiós, corazón," Rosa cooed looking back at the blue-eyed girl with a tender smile on her face.

Santana and Zoey left the kitchen, picked up what they needed and gladly went out shopping.

* * *

><p>Sunday evening Santana stood in front of Brittany's front door with a sleeping Zoey safely in her arms. The little girl's head lying soundly on the doctor's shoulder as the woman rang the doorbell. In little time Brittany was swinging the door open.<p>

"Hey, San," the blonde greeted with a smile on her face. Quickly taking in her daughter's sleeping state Brittany stepped aside to let Santana enter the house.

"Hi," the Latina replied with a tight-lipped smile, entering her ex's house and instantly seeing Jenna on the opposite side of the room behind the kitchen island. The smaller blonde wore a pair of prescription glasses that Santana haven't seen on her before.

Brittany closed the door behind them and the two women strode further into the house, reaching the living room. The blonde kept walking 'though, meeting Jenna by the kitchen island as Santana stood behind the sofa.

"We were just fixing ourselves a drink. Do you want one?" Brittany asked without dropping the smile, fumbling with a wine bottle that sat on top of the island.

Eyeing the chardonnay bottle Santana did feel tempt to accept the offer and, despite frowning upon Jenna's company, the brunette doctor did have stuff she needed to talk to Brittany about. It seemed like she would have to finally bite the bullet this time.

"Sure, I'll have a glass of wine," Santana said with as much confidence as she could muster, and the dancer felt overjoyed to hear her acceptance. Brittany was sure her best friend would decline the offer as all the times before.

"Great!" Brittany said with so much enthusiasm that neither of the other two women could overlook. Santana felt like smirking, but didn't; and Jenna felt like frowning, but didn't.

"Santana…" Jenna trailed on with a head nod whilst holding a club soda bottle, trying to politely acknowledge the other woman's presence as Brittany filled a second wine glass with the yellow-y liquid. Santana simply nodded back with a half-smile, but said nothing.

Jenna started to walk towards the living room, carrying her club soda bottle.

"I'm sorry to come so late, but Zoey wanted to see her room all ready and yesterday we kinda lost track of time with all the swimming after the guys left and it didn't got finished… Long story short, we only finished the small things late today. But she's all bathed and ready to go to bed," Santana rambled on to Brittany, looking down at the kid sleeping in her arms cozily dressed in a colourful footie pajamas.

"It's ok, San," Brittany said dismissively through a chuckle as she pressed the cork back in the bottle. "Thanks for what you're doing for Ally, by the way," the blonde said, changing the subject. "The college thing... She told me this morning that you called her yesterday. You even met with an old patient for coffee in New York. And I know how you hate small talk," Brittany finished in a soft tone, looking at Santana with adoration.

"Don't mention it. It's no big deal. She's a sister to me, you know that," Santana played it down.

"Still… It means a lot, you know?" Brittany said, broadening her sweet smile, and the brunette matched it.

"Can I put her in bed? I swear the kid weights twenty pounds more when she's dead asleep," the Latina quipped through an easy smile, shifting their daughter in her arms.

"Sure, I'll go with you," the blue-eyed woman replied flatly while walking towards Santana.

"I'll just sit here and wait for you two," Jenna stated standing in front of the television, which had been on all this time, as she headed towards one of the living room's chair.

Santana didn't know what got into her when she sarcastically replied, "By all means, make yourself comfortable on _my_ Barcelona chair." She had been so well-behaved lately. She deserved at least one light jab, right? Especially when the claws of jealousy threatened to take hold of her again after seeing Brittany and her other blonde being all domestic together. _Right?_

"Excuse me? What did you just say?" The green-eyed blonde asked with surprise through narrowed eyes, already sitting on said chair.

Brittany just looked from one woman to another, confused by how this quickly started.

"You heard me," the brunette shot back instantly with defiance in her tone, raising both of her eyebrows.

"Santana!" Brittany reproached in a stern tone of voice, looking directly into brown eyes. _Where did this come from?_ The blonde wondered.

"Well, if you want –" Jenna began saying but was cut off by her wife.

"Jenna!" The dancer reproached in the same fashion as she had done with Santana a few seconds ago.

The three fell in an awkward silence. The only thing that could be heard was some random program on the tv.

Brittany broke it as she said softly to the Latina, "Let's put her in bed." The two women started walking towards the hallway that led to the kid's bedroom.

They reached their destination in silence and Santana carefully placed the heavy-sleeping Zoey in her bed while Brittany held the covers up. After the blue-eyed girl was on top of her polka dotted sheets, the blonde woman covered her up gently. She watched with adoring eyes as Santana tenderly removed light-brown hair from their daughter's face and leaned down to place a feather kiss on Zoey's forehead. Santana looked up and found a pair of piercing blue eyes trained on her, and the adoring look that they held suddenly morphed into a different one, an extremely pointed one.

"What?" The Latina asked pointedly while locking brown eyes with blue ones, trying to keep her voice as down as possible.

"Don't start picking fights, please," the dancer pleaded in a low tone that matched the brunette's.

"I wasn't," Santana countered matter-of-factly with a tinge of annoyance whilst rolling her eyes. "Four-Eyes is _very_ sensitive," she added in mocking tone.

"And, please, don't call her 'Four-Eyes' to her face."

"Oh, so it's ok if I say it behind her back?"

Brittany just rolled her eyes at Santana's exaggerated enthusiastic tone.

"_Fine_, I promise to behave myself," Santana said with a heavy sigh.

"She looks adorable in these new pajamas you got her," the dancer stated, looking down at Zoey.

"She looks adorable in anything," Santana countered with a smirk.

"True," Brittany conceded with a grin.

The blonde leaned down to kiss her daughter's cheek and asked with a small smile after pulling back up, "You washed her hair with the shampoo?" The brunette just nodded, and Brittany broadened her smile. She could die happy inhaling that scent. It totally brought her way back.

They started walking out of the bedroom when Brittany asked, "You brought Rainbow?"

"Yeah, it's in the car. I'll bring it to you before I leave."

Santana and Brittany reached the living room and Jenna was still sitting there, drinking her club soda and watching tv. Brittany smiled at her in passing and went to the kitchen island to bring hers and Santana's chardonnays. She handed one wine glass to Santana, who took a seat on the sofa, and took a seat herself on one of the comfortable armchairs across the coffee table from where Jenna sat.

"So…" Santana trailed on, breaking the uncomfortable silence that took place. She hated those.

Brittany wrecked her brain, trying to find something that the other two women had in common so she could get a conversation going. "So, you know Santana, you and Jenna both like…" the blonde started but stopped abruptly, they really had little to nothing in common, "…french fries," the dancer finished lamely, instantly regretting starting that sentence.

Jenna and Santana looked at Brittany with puzzled expressions as the blue-eyed woman took a sip of wine to wash away the awkwardness.

"Yeah, like, I don't know, 99.9% of the world's population," Santana quipped, not really enjoying the blonde's attempt to turn her and the new wife into buddies.

Brittany opened her mouth to try another lame analogy, but Santana spoke first to stop her, "So, where did you two crazy kids meet?" She tried to keep the bite out of her intonation, but she wasn't quite sure whether she achieved the desired goal one hundred percent as she looked from Brittany's face to her left, to Jenna's face to her right and back.

"In group therapy at the hospital," Jenna said promptly, holding the Latina's gaze as she placed her club soda bottle on the coffee table. "I was there to deal with a friend's cancer and Brittany…"

"I was there because of you," Brittany softly finished her wife's sentence as she felt brown eyes turning to her.

Santana did _not_ expect that.

"They helped everyone deal with their heightened emotions and feelings, considering the difficult situations we were all in," the green-eyed woman added, trying to explain it fully.

The wheels in the Latina's head started spinning and she felt some heat starting to build in her cheeks.

"So, in a way you could say that, uh…" Santana started, raising her eyebrows a bit as she took a sip of her wine to gather up her thoughts, "…that _I_ was the one responsible for you two meeting." She shook her head vehemently in disbelief. Before she could finish her thoughts she saw Brittany opening up her mouth, about to say something.

"And Cynthia," Brittany deadpanned flatly, and then she added to clarify, "Jenna's friend."

Santana let out a dry laugh, a bit louder than she had expected to sound, before she stated with a hint of disdain and bitterness, "How _ironic_."

Brittany and Jenna exchanged a weird look.

"Those were tough times. The meetings were a great place to talk and feel connected to the outside world again," Jenna explained calmly, shifting her gaze from Brittany to Santana with ease. "Brittany and I found great support and comfort in each other," she added casually and without malice, but it fell extremely sour in the brunette's ears.

"I bet you did," Santana let out honestly and without being able to control herself. Again, it sounded laced with more bitterness than she intended, and when her eyes fell on Brittany's both could spot some hurt in each other's orbs.

"It wasn't like that," Jenna felt the need to clarify. "We became good friends; that's what I meant."

"Sí, sí, muy amigas," Santana muttered sarcastically under her breath.

"I don't under –" the petite blonde began but Brittany cut her off.

"You're not supposed to," the taller blonde interjected, her tone devoid of emotions. And then she looked at Santana, who held her stare with determination, and added firmly, "Santana always does that."

Silence fell upon them again. _Unbearably_ awkward silence.

"And your friend?" Santana broke it when she asked, willing to ask anything to escape the awkwardness and change the subject, including swallow her anger.

"She passed away," Jenna somberly said, drinking another sip of club soda. "Three years ago. It took her a long time to go to the doctors and when they caught it… it had already spread everywhere."

"They were really close. Jenna and Cynthia," the blonde said softly, taking a sip of wine. "She was like a mother figure to you, right?" She added and the smaller blonde merely nodded.

"I'm sorry to hear it," the brunette woman genuinely offered and Jenna flashed her a half-smile in return. Oncology was one of the areas she was certain she wouldn't pursue when she was in Med School. You couldn't actually do anything besides monitoring your patients' death. Not exactly something she would like to do for the rest of her days.

Eyeing the petite blonde drinking her club soda Santana said playfully, trying to lighten up the mood, "You should switch to what we're having," she raised her wine glass, "it'll help to drown the sad memory a bit."

"Can't," Jenna quickly countered. "Twelve years sober," she added, directing her gaze and smile to Brittany for a while before returning her gaze to the Latina. "In fact I have a meeting in a few minutes. Cynthia was actually my sponsor. That's how we met."

"Oh, I had no idea," Santana said awkwardly, feeling like someone who had just put her foot in her mouth.

"It's ok," Brittany piped in from her left side with a smile on her face.

They were hit by another silent patch, and their attention shifted towards the flat screen tv to try to escape it. A commercial was on and an old man in an overcoat was in it. Santana caught Brittany's eyes shifting from the tv screen to a 12 inches Eiffel Tower bronze statue that sat beside the television on top of the tv stand. The brunette doctor immediately knew what the dancer was thinking about, and when blue eyes shifted to steal a glance at brown ones – not unbeknownst to Jenna, by the way – both women burst out laughing.

"What?" Jenna asked curiously, but also with a hint of annoyance at the other two who laughed out loud and couldn't stop. She suddenly clearly felt like on the outside of an inside joke. Something she had feared for a long time… and could painfully feel starting to happen.

Catching her breath Brittany began saying throughout tiny outbursts of laughter, "Santana and I were in our honeymoon and we took a seat at a bench in this gorgeous park because, you know, _someone's_ feet," the blonde pointedly looked at Santana, "were hurting from walking for so long in high heels."

"Well, excuse me for not wanting to look like a hag in the fashion capital of the world," Santana interjected in a huff as Jenna looked less than impressed at them. "_And_ for wanting to look as tall as you."

"Anyways…" Brittany said dismissively, "we were sitting there and we saw this sweet-looking old man walking our way on this stone passage thing. We even commented amongst each other how cute and adorable he looked in his overcoat, and that was when he _swiftly_ opened it up and… and…" she couldn't complete her sentence. The blonde simply burst through a fit of laughter.

Jenna looked from her wife to the Latina shaking her head and sighing.

Santana was laughing out loud as well, but managed to complete the tale as she let out, "And then he flashed us. I looked from his… _hanging_ thing to Britt," the brunette laughed harder, "…you know, to see if I wasn't imagining things, and she looked at me," Santana shifted her gaze to the dancer, "you looked at me with the funniest expression ever."

Brittany had converted her laughter into giggles, "We started laughing our asses off in the bench and the old dude just passed us by and closed his overcoat again," the blue-eyed woman said, shaking her head and wiping some happy tears from the corner of her eyes. "Most disgusting and funny thing that ever happened to us," the blonde finished, still too used to tell that story and always refer to herself and Santana as 'us' to correct her sentence.

"Very funny," Jenna stated with a laugh, trying to sound as genuine as possible without giving away her obvious concerns and hang-ups.

"I think they came up with the word 'cracktastic' to describe this very incident," Santana deadpanned jokingly with laughter still laced in her tone of voice.

"Well, it's been fun but I have to get going to my meeting," the green-eyed blonde said whilst getting up from the chair she was sitting on and walking towards Brittany.

Jenna leaned down in front of the dancer and placed a kiss on her lips. She was feeling a bit insecure and needed to do that in that moment. Santana couldn't help but feel the sting, and to think it was uncalled for, you know, that woman to kiss her ex-wife in front of her like that. The Latina felt like standing up to roughly introduce the petite blonde to her knuckles, but chose to down the rest of her wine instead. Brittany stiffened with her wife's action and instinctively stole a quick glance at Santana to assess her face, only to see that the brunette was downing her wine. _Shit_, the dancer thought.

Pulling back slightly Jenna said sweetly in her wife's ear, "Don't drink too much, ok?" To which the blonde forced a smile and nodded. "See ya," she added after standing completely straight.

"Goodbye, Santana," the smaller blonde said congenially after turning around.

"Bye," Santana mustered up enough politeness to un-genuinely reply as Jenna walked towards the front door.

Brittany and Santana sat there in an uncomfortable silence for a while. The blue-eyed woman's gaze fell on the Barcelona chair the Latina had mentioned before.

"You can take the chair if you want, you know?" Brittany offered softly, almost meekly while meeting the brunette's brown orbs with hesitation after the kiss.

"I don't want it," Santana replied with a blasé tone. After a beat she added more gently, "But there's one thing I _do_ want." It was more than one thing actually, but she would start slowly.

"Anything," the dancer replied eagerly, fussing with the armchair arm's fabric. "Name it."

"I was wondering if you would lend me the DVD of Zoey's birth," the Latina said even more gently, holding those piercing blue eyes. "Q mentioned that she recorded it, and I would love to watch it," she added even more gently if possible, and noticed this wistful look taking over the blonde's eyes.

Brittany sighed heavily whilst nodding. She was touched Santana had asked, but at the same time she remembered that day and how bittersweet it had been. "Sure, I'll get it for you," the blue-eyed woman said in a low tone, and when Santana looked at her expectantly she added, "Oh, you mean now?"

"That would be great if possible. I'll watch it at home."

"Ok, I'll go get it," Brittany stated before she got up and disappeared through the hallway.

She came back minutes later with a transparent DVD case on top of some photo albums.

"I thought you'd like to see some photos as well," the blonde woman said with that megawatt smile of hers, placing all the stuff on the coffee table and taking a seat beside the Latina on the sofa.

"Yeah, that would be nice," Santana replied, matching her smile.

"I'll just grab the rest of the wine first," Brittany said enthusiastically, quickly making her way towards the kitchen and coming back with the bottle in hand.

She poured her and the brunette another full glass, placed the bottle on the coffee table, and proceeded to show Santana all kinds of photos of Zoey while they drank wine. There were baby photos, photos of the girl with her godparents, photos of diaper-changing duty, with family members, photos of important moments of Zoey's life like her walking, holding objects, swimming for the first time, going to her first day at preschool, having birthday parties… All those photos came with animated stories from Brittany and it played on a myriad of emotions on both ends: Santana's and Brittany's. But it also reinforced in the Latina's mind the fact that she had missed out on _a lot_.

"Wow," Santana let out, and it sounded more like a sigh. She leaned back on the sofa with all her weight and added gloomily, "I _really_ did miss a lot." Small pause as Brittany locked eyes with her. "I wish I was there," she finished weakly. And at that moment she really doubted whether she had ever spoken other words with as much honest and conviction.

Brittany unconsciously placed a comforting handing on Santana's thigh, and barely found strength to utter, "So do I."

They stared at each other and it crossed the Latina's mind to just lean forward and… and _re-claim_ those sweet pink lips that were _rightfully_ hers. That had _always_ belonged to her. And that she had been longing for too damn long. That warm hand on her jeans-clad thigh that appeared to be burning her skin wasn't doing any favours to chase those thoughts away.

Instead, the brunette inhaled deeply, broke the silence and the moment as she settled for saying, "I was thinking and there are actually another couple of things that I want."

Brittany was still a bit mesmerized by Santana's chocolate eyes. They always have had an… _affect _on her. "What?" The blonde asked absentmindedly, forgetting that her hand still rested on the Latina's thigh.

Santana said with conviction, "Those letters I wrote you while you were on tour and," she stopped, trying to find courage to finish the sentence, "…and our wedding album," she finished, regaining her confidence after swallowing hard. Despite Brittany's disarming charm, and dazzling ways, the doctor couldn't forget what had been her goal the moment she decided to stay in the blonde's house for a chat: those items.

"What?" The blue-eyed woman asked with slight shock as she blinked several times in a roll, taking her hand from Santana's thigh after embarrassingly realizing it was still there. It always amazed the blonde how Santana could pull a 360, or was it 180… or 200? She never could remember or understand that saying.

"The letters and wedding album… I want them."

"I can't give you those."

"Why not?" Santana countered in a whiny tone, furrowing her brows. "You have another wedding album, ours is the only one I've got," she added with scorn.

"I don't," Brittany shot back dejectedly, feeling the zing that was directed at her. "It wasn't like that, there wasn't a party or all that stuff we had. We just went down to City Hall," the blonde finished, averting the Latina's gaze. She thought back to that day... To how nervous and torn she felt… To that split second before her 'I do' when she stole a glance towards the door wanting Santana to burst through it and proclaim she was awake, object to everything and take her away. Back to the life she knew and loved in New York. She never came.

Santana was completely taken aback. "But Quinn, uh… she said that she came to your wedding," the brunette said in confusion, barely above whisper volume.

"She did. She and Rach were there, they were our witnesses. Besides them there were only my parents, Ally and Zoey."

"Oh…"

They stayed in comfortable silence for a while, digesting everything.

Brittany broke it when she finally said lowly, "I… I can't give you that, San."

"Ok, can I at least have that one that used to go there?" The Latina asked meekly, pointing towards the bookshelf where once upon a time sat a picture frame displaying both women at their wedding day. It was in black and white, both were dressed in beautiful white dresses, and it was taken candidly during their first dance. Brittany and Santana were smiling widely, the blonde was slightly looking down (Santana found it adorable that it looked like she was hiding a blush), the brunette doctor wasn't exactly looking at the camera but she had this serene expression on her face, like everything was perfect in the world… They had loved that photo the very first moment they laid eyes on it.

Brittany held Santana's stare, and they half-smiled to each other, knowing the history behind that photo. "Of course. It's in my dresser," the dancer replied calmly. She used to look at it from time to time when she was feeling particularly down on herself.

"But the letters are non-negotiable, B…" Santana confessed with a firm and serious tone. "I have to have them back," she added, fidgeting with the fabric of the sofa.

"You can have the ones I wrote to you," Brittany tried to come to a compromise.

"But the ones I really want are the ones _I_ wrote to you," the brunette stated, holding her resolute tone. "It hurts me to know they are out there, ok?" She confessed with utter honesty, her voice faltering a bit. She paused for a moment, and then added after a dry, nervous chuckle while shaking her head with embarrassment, "God, those things I wrote… So stupid and ridiculous…"

The Latina knew right then why letter-writing was such a dying costume. People came to know better that you shouldn't leave anything in handwriting, in _proof_… words that eventually would either make you embarrassed, or come back to bite you in the ass. Yes, she was too proud to let those _carefree_, _love-infused_ things she had written out there for anybody's eyes to possibly see.

Brittany narrowed her eyes as she replied resolutely, and yet softly, "They are not stupid… Nor ridiculous!"

"They are now," Santana shot back heavily without missing a beat.

If only the Latina knew how many times she had re-read them right after she went into the coma… hungrily devouring every line on those pages, hanging on to every single word like they were some sort of lifeline, imagining Santana's voice while the words turned into sentences in her head… She had even memorized paragraphs. She, _Brittany Susan Pierce_, who had trouble remembering simple phone numbers! If she focused enough it came to her head: "_Today I woke up in our bed and through sleep filled eyes it felt like I could see you lying beside me. It all seemed so real, B… your tangled up golden hair cascading on the pillow case, those adorable lines that form on your forehead first thing in the morning when you do that sleepy scrunch thing with your face, that crystal colour of your eyes that always seem bluer when you insist to hold my stare so we can have our own private silent conversation, your pink cheeks from the warmth of our pillows and covers, and those lips… those perfect lips with that vertical line right in the middle of the bottom one that always manages to make me weak in the knees… For a while I actually believed you were really there, Britt… But when I went to touch your neck… you weren't. And it's fine because it didn't take much for me to realize that you are a life force I much rather miss than to never have in my arms again. And you'll always be. Anyhow, I'm writing this because I'm not quite sure if I ever told you this – probably not, considering who I am – but… waking up to you is the best part of my day, and I just thought you should know that._"

"So, we either burn them or you let me have them. Those are the two options I'm comfortable with," the brunette added in earnest. She wouldn't back down from that one.

"Fine, you can have them," Brittany offered wistfully. "There's no way we are burning them."

Santana offered the dancer a warm smile, which Brittany promptly returned, and that's when they heard Zoey.

"Mommy, mommy!" The little girl cried out from her bedroom.

Brittany instantly stood up to go to their daughter but Santana held her arm.

"I'll go. You go get the letters and the photo. It's getting late and I have to get back home anyways," the Latina said with a smile. "I left Poppy alone, God only knows the state of my house by now," she added playfully, lighten up the mood a little.

Brittany nodded through a smile and both women headed towards the hallway, Santana entered Zoey's room and the dancer kept walking towards hers to gather up the items.

"Hey, baby… What's wrong?" Santana cooed soothingly, kneeling by her daughter's bedside.

"Mama?" Zoey asked with a sleepy, confused tone. "What are you doing here?" The kid looked around, making sure she actually was in the bedroom she initially thought she was in.

"I came to bring you home, sweetie. I was in the living room talking to your mommy," the Latina said in a low tone of voice, stroking Zoey's forehead and hairline with affection. "Did you have a bad dream?"

Zoey nodded with a pout and replied in shaky voice, "There was a monster there. I think it's under my bed now."

"Monsters don't really exist, Z," Santana stated patiently, holding her daughter's gaze for reassurance.

"Gracie's big brother said they do," Zoey countered resolutely.

Santana briefly wondered whether she should introduce her knuckles to this knucklehead as well.

"Well, I'm pretty sure they don't," Santana began softly, still caressing the kid's hair. "But if it will make you feel better I can check under your bed for you to make sure," she added with a warm smile.

Zoey simply smiled back and nodded her approval. The kneeling brunette came down on all fours and inspected underneath the little girl's bed for a while, and then she came back to her knees.

"See, I told you, no monsters whatsoever," the Latina concluded with a wide smile, placing a kiss on Zoey's forehead. "You can go back to sleep now."

"Where's Rainbow?"

"It's in my car. Your mommy will bring it in a while. Now go back to sleep, mi hija."

Unbeknownst to Zoey and Santana, Brittany finally arrived at the kid's door with the requested items. She made sure to stand outside their line of vision.

Zoey looked at Santana with blue eyes and asked pleadingly, "Can you sing me a song first?"

Santana took a deep breath, sighed and replied softly, "I don't sing anymore." It was true. Since she woke up from the coma she had heard lots of music but she never sang anything, not even in the shower. Zoey didn't notice but she had some sadness laced in her tone, which Brittany's trained ears on anything Santana totally picked up, and she frowned by the door.

"Why not?"

What was she supposed to tell her kid? That she didn't sing because she was a sad person and sad people didn't feel like bursting into song? It was too bleak. However, she also didn't want to lie to Zoey; so, the brunette doctor simply shrugged in response.

"But mommy always says you sang to her all the time. Even at school. She says your voice is the prettiest she ever heard, and that it was the best one in your school's singing 'cub'," Zoey explained calmly, rolling a strand of Santana's hair in her index finger. "I think your voice is pretty too. You sang to me inside mommy's belly," she added with a smile and both women couldn't help but mimic their daughter's face.

"You remember me singing to you?" Santana asked with disbelief, furrowing her eyebrows. _How could she?_ The Latina thought.

Zoey nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and then she said, "I watch on the tv all the time."

_Of course_, Santana thought. Mentally shaking her head at herself.

"Alright," the brunette said with resignation, giving in to her daughter. She couldn't say 'no' to the kid. "Only for you. So, what do you want to hear?"

From the hallway Brittany didn't know this, but she and Zoey wore matching grins on their faces.

"The song you sang to mommy at school," the kid stated with the grin still in place after giving it some thought.

"Well, I actually sang _three_ songs for her. I know, right? What a sap!" Santana said playfully, earning a giggle from a very satisfied Zoey. And, without her knowledge, a wider grin from Brittany. "The first one we kinda sang together at the singing _club_," she stressed the right word, "it was meant to show her through song how I felt for her. The second we were alone, I wanted to cheer her up because some moron made her feel sad. And the last one was also in front of everyone at the club. I wanted to show her that I wasn't a coward anymore, that I was ready for us to be together for real if she'd have me. We started to date officially after that song," Santana added softly, feeling quit nostalgic and warm to relieve those memories. "So, which one the madam wants?" She finished jokingly, tickling Zoey a bit.

"The last one," Zoey said with conviction, still giggling a bit from the tickling.

"Ok, your wish is my command," Santana said, clearing her throat theatrically before starting to sing.

_I had a thought that I never could capture,  
><em>_Holding you and holding back,  
><em>_But I held too tight and it broke and you shattered,  
><em>_And I was watching while you cracked,  
><em>_The day at the lake when I made funny faces,  
><em>_And then we laughed so hard it hurt,  
><em>_Now I'm a ghost floating and shapeless,  
><em>_Trying to come back down to Earth,_

As she softly sang the lines Santana remembered everything she and Brittany had battled through to finally be together, and it made her tone way more sentimental. She remembered her struggle back then to finally come to terms with whom she really was, and how liberating it felt to actually let it all out. To finally be able to be with the person she truly loved.

_And I'll come back down,  
><em>_I'll come back down,  
><em>_I'll come back down,  
><em>_Eventually,  
><em>_I've made mistakes and I've blown second chances,  
><em>_And there some things I can't reverse,  
><em>_I don't want more minute romances,  
><em>_I wanna love you 'till you burst,_

Brittany heard Santana's voice from the hallway and her heart just clenched in her chest. The time the Latina had sang that song to her was one of the happiest moments of her life. It brought tears to her eyes then, and it was bringing them now. Her legs found will of their own, and she began to enter Zoey's bedroom.

_So, ready or not,  
><em>_I'm gonna love you to pieces,  
><em>_The only way that I know how,  
><em>_I've got a hunch that you're just what I needed,  
><em>_And I'm…_

Santana stopped singing abruptly when she felt Brittany's eyes on her back, and the blonde's presence in the room. A part of her thought that the dancer didn't deserve to hear her singing loving songs to her anymore. Because since the day she sang that to Brittany she had followed through on all of those sung words, but she felt that the dancer had failed her.

"Don't stop on my account," Brittany said with a smile, holding a wooden box and a photo frame beneath it. The Latina immediately turned around to face her.

"I didn't," Santana replied defensively, rising instantly to her feet. She returned her gaze to Zoey and gladly noticed that she had fallen asleep. "She fell asleep," she added eagerly, neatly wrapping her cover story.

"I see," the blonde stated, shifting her adoring gaze from brown eyes to their sleeping child. And then she tilted her head towards the bedroom door, silently telling the brunette that they should head back to the living room. Which they quickly did.

"You still have the prettiest voice," Brittany said kinda flirtatiously as she took a seat back on the sofa whilst holding both items.

Santana remained standing near the coffee table. "Were you eavesdropping?" The brunette woman asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

Brittany shrugged with a coy look on her face, and something about this whole situation was starting to annoy Santana. That song clearly raised dormant emotions. If she searched herself she would find out that it was rooted on the fact that she have had Brittany… and now she no longer did. Not that the doctor was willing to do any search whatsoever. Shocker. At her worst times Santana caught herself wishing that Brittany wasn't really a friend. Her best friend at that. Perhaps, if that was the case, she may actually be able to hurt her when push turned to shove. Because that was what the blonde did to her first: _hurt_ her. _Badly_. Willingly or not, in the end it didn't really matter. The brunette felt it. However, that _wasn't_ the case. Brittany _was_ her best friend, more than that she was the only love of her life. And she could never bring herself to go through with that. However strong her wish was.

"Here are the letters and the photo," Brittany said after a beat, handing the stuff to Santana, who promptly grabbed them.

The brown-eyed woman opened up the hand-carved wooden box to grab the letters she had written. It wouldn't be hard to spot them. Brittany had only used pink envelopes whilst she always used regular white ones, which were yellow-y by then. Santana started to separate hers.

"What are you doing?" Brittany, who had been watching her like a movie, asked while looking up at the Latina.

"Getting my letters," Santana replied matter-of-factly.

"You can have all of them," the blonde stated softly. "They weren't meant to be apart," she added through a smile, shooting Santana a meaningful look that conveyed that she said _that_ meaning more things than one.

Santana nodded with a half-smile, still plagued by the annoying feeling as she took the letters out of the beautiful wooden box.

"You can take the box, too," the dancer offered sweetly.

"But your grandma gave it to you," the brunette protested, shaking her head. She knew how much the box meant to the blue-eyed woman, especially after the old lady passed away.

"I know, but it's always been their home. It wouldn't be right to just remove them," Brittany deadpanned seriously in typical Brittany fashion, and the Latina decided it was best not to argue with her. So, she put the letters back inside and closed it.

"I should get going," Santana said, leaning down to grab the DVD of Zoey's birth on top of the coffee table.

Brittany hid her disappointment very badly. "Are you excited for the new job at the hospital tomorrow?" She asked with interest from the sofa, trying to stretch their time together. It was always so damn pleasant to spend time with the Latina. She never had enough. Ever. In their entire lives. No wonder they were best friends.

"Yes, I guess," the brunette doctor replied aloofly while standing up straight with her stuff in hand. It wasn't a big deal. A job was a job.

"I'm glad it went all well in New York, you know, with the Board," Brittany said and the mention of New York caught Santana's attention.

She guessed that was as good a time as any to say what she was planning to say from the minute she touched down on Ohio. The Latina always hated to keep things from the dancer, and despite her reluctance to admit it, lies per omission were still that: _lies_. Brittany deserved to hear everything from her own lips, and she also deserved to be the first one to know. God knows if the situation was reversed she would have liked the blonde to extend the same 'courtesy' towards her.

Seeing a weird look on the brown-eyed woman's face Brittany inquired suspiciously, "What?"

"What?" Santana mimicked her question, unconsciously holding the items closer to her body.

"You have a weird look on your face," Brittany stated, unashamedly studying the face of the woman she had loved for all her life.

"You know I hate when you do that," the Latina softly countered instead, but realizing the blonde wasn't saying anything else she was just staring at her expectantly, Santana added ceremoniously after a beat, "There's something I need to tell you."

"Ok…" the dancer trailed on, adjusting her body on the sofa to face the brunette more comfortably.

"I…" Santana trailed on while avoiding looking the dancer in the eye, trying to muster up some courage. But all that was going through her head were thoughts of a hurt Brittany. How this piece of information, this 'confession' would sting.

Even 'though she had no reason to hold back she found herself doing just so.

Taking in the silence Brittany trailed on mockingly through a grin, "You…"

Santana shook her head and said, plastering a forced smile on her face, "It's nothing." _Chicken-shit_, the Latina thought. But she could always tell her later. "I really should go," she added, heading towards the door with her stuff under one arm.

"I'll walk you out," Brittany replied obliviously, getting up from the sofa.

Santana handed Rainbow back to Brittany when she entered her car, and drove to her place after quick goodbyes.

* * *

><p>First thing Santana did when she got home was plop down on the living room sofa – soon joined by an energetic Poppy – after sticking the DVD of Zoey's birth on the DVD player and eagerly pressing play. She watched the screen with hawk eyes on the edge of her seat as she instantly recognized the waiting room of the hospital her former practice had surgery and procedure privileges at. The shot was shaken, it kept going from eye-level to floor-level and back.<p>

"_Am I doing it right?" Came the unmistaken voice of Quinn. The camera was angled to the floor._

"_Yeah, you just press here to zoom in and here to zoom out," came Jimmy's voice as the camera zoomed in and out the floor._

"_Is it recording already?" Quinn asked as the waiting room came to view properly._

"_Yeah, honey, see the 'REC' symbol here?" Came Rachel's voice that time around._

Santana could even picture the three stooges standing there hovering over the camera's preview screen. She shook her head with a small smile on her lips.

"_I still don't understand why I can't film this myself," Jimmy said, coming into view. Quinn was practicing her zooming on the British man._

_Rachel came brusquely into view as Quinn apparently moved the camera too fast towards her wife. "I don't think Brittany would appreciate you taking a good look at her private parts, James," the petite brunette stated with a disgusted look on her face._

_Quinn moved the camera up and down, as if nodding her agreement._

_Damn right_, Santana thought. She should remember to slap Jimmy's head next time she saw him for even considering that ludicrous idea. She felt jealous enough that Quinn would get to see her wife's lady business. Well, _ex_-wife now. That took some getting used to it.

_The camera continued to record shots of the waiting room; Rob Pierce and a pre-teen Ally were caught talking whilst sitting on a sofa as Quinn got used to the whole filming thing. Jimmy and Rachel could be seen around the petite blonde. All of the sudden the camera turned – more smoothly – towards a hallway where Annie Pierce came power-walking from._

"_Quinn, dear, it's time," Annie stated onscreen with a warm smile on her face while wearing surgical gear._

"_Already, Mrs. Pierce?" Came Quinn's voice as the camera filmed the floor again._

"_That was fast, we barely arrived," Rachel's voice was heard as well as the sound of other sets of feet approaching._

"_I didn't even have time for some pre-birth taping," the hazel-eyed woman's whiny voice could be heard, but you only could see the floor._

_Great_, Santana thought. It's like watching that horrible 'Blair Witch Project' movie again.

"_What can I say? She takes after me, I barely arrived at the hospital and the girls were already popping out of me," the older woman said, coming to the screen again as Quinn readjusted the camera._

"_How many centimeters is she?" Jimmy asked in his serious, professional tone as Quinn caught his image on camera, passing Rob and Ally on the way to him._

"_Doctor Salinger said ten," Annie replied matter-of-factly._

"_You should hurry, then," the tall man said, giving Quinn a little nudge._

"_Where are my clothes?" Quinn's voice reverberated as she probably took in Annie's vestments._

"_It's already waiting for you there. Let's go," was the last thing that could be heard from Annie before the screen turned to black._

**TBC.**

* * *

><p><strong>That's it for now, guys! Hope you liked it :)<br>Oh, yeah, the bad news: I had to leave you with a cliffhanger. The chapter was getting ridiculously long. And next chapter may take more than a week to come through. Next week will be all kinds of hectic at work, and I know I'll have zero time to write. Sorry...  
>Also, I'm not ignoring your PMs. I'll respond to all of them when I get more time. I wish the day had at least 5 more hours. So much to do, so little time to do them...<br>Let me know what you think: review! :D**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Glee _nor its original characters (if I did it would probably be called _The Brittany and Santana Show_, and all the other characters would only be there to help advance their plot).

**A/N: **Thanks for all the reviews, PMs, and constructive open dialogue! I'll never deny my sheer cluelessness when it comes to lesbianism. I can only try my best to grasp it but, ultimately, I write about love; so, I thank all of those who took the time to explain things with patience and lack of rudeness. It has been most educational. Honestly. I think I see your points and issues clearer now (special thanks to you, **harb**). I never meant to dismiss or demean Santana's lesbianism... but I have said more than enough already ;) Anyhow, to the minority who resorted to rudeness and lack of civility all I can say is: it's a shame it has come to this... The constructive dialogue was going on very nicely. The way you, uh, "harshly" speak makes it sound like I'm some nutjob psycho who goes around preaching that homosexuals are going to burn in hell, or some other nonsensical bullshit like that; when I'm nothing but a big lover of all forms of love and all people roaming around this crazy pale blue dot. Go figure... :P  
>Anyways, if you don't fancy the story just don't read it. It's fairly simple. Sorry for having offended people... again. It's never been my intention :D To those departing readers: well, thanks for coming this far, I guess; and to those staying: enjoy the new chapter! And do not worry, the story will always go on as planned ;)<p>

**This chapter is dedicated to: **Tars**, for the lovely chat and for being my favourite Dorothy Boyd ;) Yes, that was an inside joke. How great is that? Having inside jokes with your readers? Also, **harb**, for shedding some much needed light with politeness and coolness.

**Hope you enjoy the latest (and longest up to now) addition. It's sure filled with lots of angst and awkwardness... but also love - awww :D**

* * *

><p><strong>Mischances, Stances and Stolen Glances<br>**_||Chapter Eleven||_

"_How many centimeters is she?" Jimmy asked in his serious, professional tone as Quinn caught his image on camera, passing Rob and Allie on the way to him._

"_Doctor Salinger said ten," Annie replied matter-of-factly._

"_You should hurry, then," the tall man said, giving Quinn a little nudge._

"_Where are my clothes?" Quinn's voice reverberated as she probably took in Annie's vestment._

"_It's already waiting for you there. Let's go, sweetie," was the last thing that could be heard from Annie before the screen turned to black._

…

_The image quickly came back on. It looked like Quinn was opening a hospital room's door and Annie was probably beside her because when the person carrying the camera stopped, framing an image of Brittany in bed, the older blonde went straight ahead to her daughter's bedside._

"_Q, it's time," Brittany said from the hospital bed as Annie caressed her daughter's hair. The dancer had her legs spread widely and Stella sat on a stool by the bottom of the bed. A female nurse fussed with the monitors on the other side of the bed._

Santana couldn't help but feel a deep ache in her chest when she took in Brittany's appearance. The blonde was visibly thinner, ten pounds at least, the Latina knowingly assessed from how long her neck looked. Her baby bump was quite protuberant and she looked extremely fragile. Santana would like to think that it was because she was wearing that undignified hospital gown, but she knew better than that. Brittany's demeanor and body language told her the real tale. The brunette doctor saw the dark circles beneath her then wife's eyes, which told her how little sleep the woman must have been getting and her eyes… God, the sight of those eyes almost killed Santana. She had to fight the urge to break down in tears. When Santana first woke up from the coma she had noticed that Brittany's blue eyes didn't look the same. They had lost their spark and liveliness. However, the eyes on her television screen were a hundred times worse. They were completely… empty. The saddest blue seas that Santana had ever laid eyes on. Right then she got an idea of what Quinn had meant.

"_I know, B," Quinn's voice came filled with emotion as she appeared to be walking closer to the bed and Stella eyed the stats on the monitors by the head of Brittany's bed._

"_Okay, Brittany, it's time for you to start pushing. Are you ready?" Stella asked sweetly and calmly from the bottom of the bed as Quinn zoomed on the blonde doctor._

Santana unconsciously took a deep breath.

_Quinn captured the scene as Brittany nodded and gulped hard, holding her mom's hand._

The Latina's heart ached as she wished to be the one holding her wife's hand at that moment.

"_Alright then, give me one good push, Brittany," Stella said softly, one hand placed on each one of Brittany's knees as the blonde did what she was told. "That's it, keep pushing for me, just like that, Brittany, you're doing great," Stella added enthusiastically._

_Quinn started to zoom on Brittany's scrunched up face._

"_Ok, you can stop pushing for a while, Brittany. Great job," the blonde doctor said reassuringly as Annie still held Brittany's hand._

_After a short breather, Stella said, "Ok, I need a big push now, Brittany. The head is ready to come out. Push for me," and the blonde dancer quickly obliged again, but after a while Stella could see that the woman intended to stop pushing. "Don't stop, Brittany, I need this push," the doctor added softly but commanding._

"_I can't," Brittany let out midst the pushing, holding her mom's hand with incredible force._

"_You can, Britt," Quinn's voice was heard again as she zoomed a bit out of the blonde's face to focus on the big picture once again while the dancer kept pushing._

Santana felt the uncontrollable desire to jump into that screen to give the blonde some strength, some support, but she couldn't. All she could do was shift even more to the edge of her seat and that's what she did.

"_Alright, great, the head is out, Brittany!" Stella announced and Quinn moved quickly to capture that image and then the look on Brittany's face, which was a mixture of exhaustion and relief._

Santana gasped at the first sight of her daughter. The first sight of Zoey.

"_You can breathe evenly now. The worst part is over… now you must gather your strength because I'll need one final big push, ok?" Stella said, doing her doctor thing between Brittany's legs as she looked at the monitors to check mother and child's heartbeats. "One more push and we'll find out if it's a boy or a girl," the blonde doctor added with a smile._

_She didn't know the sex until the birth?_ Santana wondered, too caught up with the DVD to give it further thought.

"_You're doing wonderfully, baby," Annie said to Brittany before kissing her daughter's sweaty blonde hair that had stuck to her temple. _

"_Great job," Quinn's supportive voice was heard as well. Brittany smiled at them both._

It pained Santana to realize that it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"_Alright, Brittany, now it's the time. One final push. One more and we'll meet this special kid," Stella informed in a cheery tone._

"_I can't, I can't do this," Brittany mumbled weakly, shaking her head from side to side rapidly._

"_Yes, you can honey…" Annie trailed on sweetly, intensifying the hold on her daughter's hand._

"_I can't. I can't do this without her," the dancer stated sobbingly, tears pooling on her blue eyes._

Santana's heart cracked. She took a deep breath as she kneeled on the floor in front of the sofa, not knowing what to do. Poppy climbed off the sofa to seat beside her.

"_This baby and I… We can't do this without San here," Brittany added dejectedly, tears running down her cheeks._

The brunette's heart finally shattered at the sound of that and only when she felt a drop against her hand was when she realized she was crying as well, which made her touch her cheek as a reflex.

"_She is here, baby," Annie sated softly, barely above a whisper. "She'll always be here," she added, touching the left side of Brittany's chest. "You need to be strong and bring yours and Santana's child into this world now," the older woman added, looking into her daughter's eyes as Brittany nodded in between tears._

_Brittany gave one final big push and Quinn caught the image of Stella pulling out the baby from Brittany's inside. The loud crying could be heard loudly throughout the room as smiles took over the women's lips and Stella cut the umbilical cord. _

"_It's a girl!" Stella declared with a wide grin as she held up the bundle-of-joy a bit for the new mother to see before taking the baby with the nurse's help to the stainless steel and plexiglass bassinet._

_Quinn turned the camera briefly towards her own face to mouth the words 'a girl' through a wide grin. _

Santana couldn't help but widely grin at that as well.

_The petite blonde then zoomed on the crying baby girl being cleaned up in the bassinet by the nurse as Stella unobstructed the baby's nostrils and mouth, and quickly performed the Apgar test. The brunette nurse wrapped the little one in a pink blanket and Stella handed the tiny human being to a smiling-through-weeping Brittany._

Santana's tears started to cascade down her own cheeks as she also smiled through crying, but she had stopped attempting to contain the teardrops with her hands. It was a fool's errand.

"_She's perfectly healthy. Congratulations, mom!" Stella stated with a smile as Brittany cuddled the baby girl with sheer adoration._

"_Congrats, B!" Quinn's voice was heard on the background._

"_Sweetie…" was all that Annie managed to utter through tears._

"_She's got dark hair," Brittany breathed out, running a gentle finger through the baby's abundant mane. "Just like San…" the blonde added with a voice heavily laced with emotion. "Hasn't you, Zoey?" She finished as tears streamed down her bittersweet, smiling face._

"_Zoey?" Annie asked with a smile, sitting down on the hospital bed and wrapping an arm around her daughter's shoulder, who held her own little daughter._

"_Zoey Pierce-Lopez," Brittany stated rather proudly, looking down at her baby's blue eyes lovingly as the infant's cries finally stopped._

Santana choked down and swallowed hard, eyes mesmerized by the scene in front of her eyes. Her daughter. Their daughter. Their gorgeous little baby daughter.

"_Welcome to the world, goddaughter," Quinn's cracking voice was heard once more._

"_You're perfect, Zoey," the dancer began softly, "Your Mama would be so proud. I wish she was here," she added wistfully, having her index finger trapped by a tiny hand, which Quinn promptly zoomed in._

Santana put her hand to her mouth to contain an audible sob.

_Brittany grew even more emotional with the gesture and Annie gave a pointed look towards the camera, towards Quinn. "Why don't you call in the others, sweetie?" Annie asked the petite blonde and both knew the real reason behind her request. "Is that ok, doctor?" The older woman added in question, kindly looking at Stella._

"_Of course," Stella said with a matching knowing smile._

"_I'll go now," Quinn's voice came as the screen turned to darkness._

Santana was an emotional mess. Oh, yes; she _definitely_ knew what Quinn had meant. Suddenly, as she dried her eyes the Latina felt this incredible impulse that could not be tamed. She needed to tell her, she just couldn't keep this to herself for one more second. Next thing she knew she was getting up, entering her car and standing in front of Brittany's door knocking on it even though there was a visible and known doorbell to her right.

"Jenna, did you forget your ke –" Santana heard Brittany's muffled voice before the blonde slung the door open and stopped mid-sentence.

"San!" Brittany exclaimed with surprise, unable to contain a smile. "I thought you were…" the blonde trailed on absentmindedly, but didn't even bother to finish her sentence. "Did you forget something?" She finished, standing by the threshold and briefly looking back at the living room to check for forgotten items.

"I need to talk to you," Santana stated anxiously, not even taking the time to answer the blue-eyed woman's question.

"Sure, come in," Brittany said calmly, finding the Latina's edgy demeanor a bit weird.

"No, it won't take long," the brunette said, shifting her weight from one foot to another.

Brittany eyed her expectantly and after taking a deep breath Santana decided to just spill everything already. Because, even though she felt this misplaced guilt and stress, there was nothing to be guilty or stressed about. She was a single young woman, who had sex with a single young man. She owed Brittany nothing anymore. They weren't married anymore. _Right? Right_; she answered her own internal question inwardly.

"It happened…" Santana trailed on with a steady voice. "Back in New York… It happened," she added slightly more awkwardly, looking the blonde in the eye.

"What happened?" The dancer asked with confusion, furrowing her brows.

_God, she will make this hard on me, won't she?_ The Latina thought.

"You know, _it_ happened," the brunette doctor replied softly but held those blue eyes with a pair of pointed brown ones.

It looked like she could see Brittany's light bulb turning on frame by frame with millisecond precision. It wasn't a pretty sight watching hurt take over the face of the person you love with such accurate detail. In fact, it was brutal.

"You mean…" Brittany trailed on in a low tone, holding the other woman's stare. And when Santana nodded her confirmation Brittany felt like she had died a little bit. The mere thought of another person touching her wife, her ex-wife, made her physically sick. The blonde's knees felt wobbly and her always-so-strong legs felt weak under her weight, making the dancer lean subtly on the doorframe for immediate support.

"I thought you should hear it from me," Santana offered honestly, avoiding those blue eyes as she shifted her gaze towards her new pair of boots.

They fell in silence for a while as Brittany processed the information and tried to learn again how to properly form sentences through speech. Her heart was racing so much that she feared a heart-attack.

After a while the dancer broke the silence as she said, "Was it…" her voice cracked like a sad saxophone note; so, she cleared her throat and tried again, "Was it with that Kate person?" The name tasted bitter in her mouth.

"No, I told you nothing happened between us. I wouldn't lie to you," the brown-eyed woman replied evenly, resting her gaze again on the blonde's face. "We never lie to each other," she added with more emotion laced in her tone.

"Do I know –" Brittany started to ask but Santana quickly cut her off.

"No, it's no one you know," Santana interjected, trying to spare the dancer of any unnecessary pain. _Old habits_. _Which she feared would never die._

Another terribly awkward silence took place.

"Who is she? What's her name?" Brittany mustered up the guts to ask in a steadier tone of voice. _Who knows, maybe I'll need the slut's name if I ever decide to track her down and kill her. Slowly. And painfully. God, what am I thinking? And why does that voice in my head sound so much like coach Sylvester?_ The dancer scolded herself and mused inwardly.

"_His_ name is Scott. Campbell. He's a doctor I recently met," Santana offered promptly, biting down on her bottom lip.

"A guy?" Brittany asked in surprise, taking a sharp intake of breath. _And a 'doctor' at that?_ The dancer thought bitterly, experiencing lapses as ancient buried feelings of being stupid resurfaced. She felt awful but, come to think of it, it would be much worse if it had been with another woman. Both girls have had their fair amount of boys in the past, but they always had been each other's only girl. Before Jenna, that is.

The situation then started to feel very familiar and reminiscent for both women.

Santana simply nodded and decided to mimic Brittany's statement to her months ago. With a slight adjustment, of course. "You've ruined _women_ for me," she stated jokingly, half-smiling to try to lighten the mood. It didn't quite work. _Just_ like in the past it hadn't worked for her.

They stared at each other once more. Not handling the silence too well Santana broke it, "I thought you deserved to know," she said in earnest.

"Thank you for telling me," Brittany shot back just as genuinely, still leaning against the doorframe. It would have killed her if she had found out from someone else.

"Well, I really should get going," the brunette said, tilting her head briefly towards her parked car.

"Ok," the dancer uttered softly, still too caught up in the haze of that wreckage.

Santana started to turn around but backtracked quickly, stepping towards Brittany and wrapping her into a bone-crushing hug. As fast as the hug started it ended. The Latina took a few steps backwards and the blue-eyed woman stood there in shock: mourning the ever-so-brief contact as her body felt on fire.

"What was that for?" The dancer asked with a puzzled look on her face, eyeing the brown-eyed woman with a searching stare.

"For giving birth to Zoey," Santana stated softly but resolutely, flashing the other mother of her daughter a rare sweet smile.

"You've seen it?" Brittany asked wistfully and kinda bashfully as a blush came to her cheeks while she remembered the emotional mess she was that day. The emotional mess she was every one of those dark days.

Santana nodded her confirmation and stated adoringly, "You were amazing, B… I have no words."

Brittany finally matched the Latina's sweet smile, thinking back to baby girl Zoey. "She saved my life," the blonde said honestly with a heavy meaning.

"I know the feeling," Santana shot back just as honestly and just as heavily.

Both women held each other's stare for the umpteenth time that night as they shared the same sweet smile.

"I should…" The brunette doctor trailed on, starting the walk back to her vehicle.

"Goodnight, San," Brittany said softly from the door, watching the brunette beauty walk away. Away from her, sadly.

"Good…night, Britt," Santana replied adjusting her words, and looking over her shoulder at the blonde beauty behind her.

Brittany got in and immediately went to Zoey's room amidst the heavy turmoil inside her head. The blue-eyed woman couldn't fight the urge to lie down beside her sleeping daughter. _Their_ sleeping daughter... A piece of Santana that she would always have in her life, regardless of anything and everything. That action brought her back to those days. Those days where Zoey was just a baby and she did just the same to feel closer to the lost love of her life. Although, come to think of it, Santana was no longer lost to her… Except that she actually was. The Latina was moving on. For real this time. So, Brittany cuddled into her daughter as a way to try to regain some peace of mind… Exactly like years ago.

* * *

><p>Santana was leaving the doctors' bathroom whilst readjusting her white doctor's coat on top of a green scrubs top at the same moment that Maggie was coming down the hall.<p>

"Maggie…" Santana smilingly acknowledged the nurse who came in her direction from a bit afar as the doctor slung the stethoscope around her neck.

"Hey, San," Maggie shot back with a smile as she reached the brunette and they started walking down the halls together. "Weren't you wearing a blue blouse last time I saw you minutes ago?" She added with suspicion, eying the green scrubs top. And then, taking in the previous sight of Santana readjusting her coat, thus adding one and one together and coming up with three, Maggie finished with a devious grin, "You weren't schtooping anyone in there, were you?"

"Jeez, Maggie… No!" The brown-eyed woman replied indignantly, furrowing her brows while looking sideways at her friend. "I don't poop where I eat, thank you very much."

"Alright…" the nurse in pink scrubs trailed on through laughter, putting her arms up as a surrendering sign. "Just checking…"

"Who says 'schtooping' nowadays, anyway?"

Maggie simply smiled and pointed at herself.

A really young resident in scrubs was coming their way and when he spotted Santana he flashed both women the most awkward/scared smile to ever grace the Earth, and brusquely power-walked around the corner to another hallway.

"Wow, you're working here for, like… little over two months and all the residents and interns already fear you to death," the curly-haired nurse mused as they walked side by side.

"Yes, it's both an art and a gift," Santana replied with a mock serious tone. "I'm afraid it can't be taught, though."

"Bummer," Maggie stated with mock desolation in return.

"Anyways, a baby just decided it would be _awesome_ to throw up on my blouse as I examined him. Hence the change," Santana said with sarcasm after a beat, wearing a disgusted look on her face as both women reached the nurses' station.

"Well, I should be so lucky. I just came back from draining a nasty abscess, which Doctor Weber _kindly_ dumped on my lap," Maggie replied matter-of-factly, entering the nurses' station as another nurse handed Santana a patient's chart.

"That geezer is so lazy. If I had a nickel every time a nurse complained about him I'd be Oprah by now," the brown-eyed woman quipped, skimming through the chart in her hand.

Maggie sat at the computer and began to type in information. "You're off now, right?" She asked, glancing back at her friend from over her shoulder.

"Yes, thank God. This shift felt extra longer. Just have to sign up on this and I'm free," Santana said with relief, signing at the bottom of the last page. "You?"

"Still have a few more hours to go," the nurse replied in low spirits, clicking on something with the mouse.

"My sentiments," Santana joked lightheartedly, handing the other nurse the signed chart. "I have to drive all the way to Dayton to pick up Jimmy from the airport. So, your misery should know that it has mine for company." She said that, but she was feeling quite excited to have her friend in town.

"Jimmy is that New York friend of yours, right? The cute one who came to visit you several times?" Maggie asked and Santana nodded. "Is he coming for Zoey's birthday?" The woman in pink scrubs asked, making conversation whilst rolling around in her chair to face Santana.

"Yes, Jimmy's coming a bit early so we can hang out and stuff. He actually found a strip club here through the internet that he wants us to go tonight," Santana said with amusement in her voice but she rolled her eyes for good measure. "That guy is nothing but resourceful, I'll tell you."

"Ah, I know that place," Maggie said casually.

"_Do_ tell," Santana replied quickly with a smirk as she entered the nurses' station to come closer to her friend.

"Not much _to_ tell… I went with Danny once a couple years ago. He asked as a wedding anniversary gift. Something about spicing up our sex life," the nurse stated with a light snort. "Three kids already and the man wants us to spice up our sex life. I swear if it were up to him we'd have a football team!"

Santana laughed and asked, "By the way, you're going to Zoey's party, right?" Maggie nodded as the brunette doctor leaned on the nurses' station next to the computer the nurse was using. "Good, I need all the buffers possible. I can already sense all the awkwardness between me and Four-Eyes," Santana added in a bit of a huff. She could already predict that things would be tense. Her interactions with the new wife were getting more awkward and strained by the day.

"Should the boys and I wear our 'Team Lopez' t-shirts?" Maggie joked with a playful smile as she typed with velocity and looked up a bit to see Santana's dismissive, faux wide-smile.

"Can't you just leave triple-trouble back at home? Like, I don't know, locked up in the basement or something?" The brown-eyed woman asked in the same joking fashion, smiling down at Maggie.

"Yeah, I tried that one already. They blew up a wall and dug their way out through the backyard. Sorry…" the nurse replied mockingly through an easy smile, which the doctor matched. "Brittany's house… Saturday at two, right?" She finished, changing the subject.

"That's it."

"Ok."

"Ok, I gotta head to the airport now, Maggs. Talk to you later," Santana said, leaving from behind the nurses' station.

"Yeah, drive safe," Maggie replied promptly, looking up from the screen to see the brunette nodding while walking away.

* * *

><p>The next day, Friday, Santana entered Brittany's dance studio with Jimmy in tow right after noon. Both wore their shades. There was no one at the small reception area and Santana figured Brittany must have been teaching; so, she and Jimmy went to the back, passed by the double doors that led to the dancing room and arrived at this wide glass window. It looked like an interrogation room's mirror but everybody outside could see everybody inside, and vice-versa. Brittany was indeed warming up her pupils as she stood in front of a mirrored wall in front of the class. The students had their back to the visitors but the blonde spotted them right away. She waved and they waved back. The dancer seemed to be saying something to her class and came jogging towards the door right after.<p>

"Hey, guys!" Brittany said immediately after coming through the swinging double doors in dancing clothes. "Jimmy, so good to see you!" She added with enthusiasm, going to the man for a hug. "How are you?"

"Not so loud, Brittany…" Santana chastised with a hoarse voice, bringing one hand to her head.

"Yeah, Britt, that was excruciatingly loud," Jimmy said in the middle of the hug whilst scrunching his face. "But I'm very happy to see you, too," he added softly, looking at the blonde's face after she pulled back. "I'm more than fine, thanks for asking. You?"

"I'm good, but –" The dancer began saying but before she could ask why they were acting all weird and wearing sunglasses inside, Santana interjected.

"What was the 911 about, Britt?" The brunette woman asked in a huff.

"Oh, yeah, I need you to stop calling Mary from the bakery. You're starting to frighten her," Brittany answered flatly, shifting her gaze from Jimmy to Santana.

"That's it? That was the big _emergency_?" Santana asked incredulously, placing one hand on her hip. The blonde just nodded. "When you send out a text that reads '911 dance studio' you should be bleeding in the dance studio or the dance studio should be coming down in flames… _or_ you should be bleeding inside the dance studio that is coming down in flames. You do not send out a text like that to tell me that some whiny baker can't handle a couple of calls," she reproached rapidly.

"Well, I've never been good at math but five calls _a day_ is more than a couple of calls," Brittany shot back with amusement. "She knows my mom, so she called me to complain about your 'crazy' ways and demands. I'm serious, Santana, the old lady is scared of you; that's why I had to tell you this face to face," the blue-eyed woman added, trying hard to sound serious but unable to hide a tiny smile.

"Scaring old people now, huh, San? Way to go," Jimmy playfully mocked his friend through a grin, receiving a scowl from the brunette.

"Shut it, James!" Santana briskly said, looking sideways at the tall man. And then she shifted her gaze back to Brittany and added with less petulance, "The old broad is overreacting. The cake is the only thing I'm in charge of. I want it to be perfect, that's all."

"I know that, S," the blue-eyed woman replied softly, looking at the brunette with adoration. "Just try to tone it down a notch, ok? For _my_ sanity. She's called me three times already."

"Fine," the brown-eyed woman conceded after a beat. "I'll try," she added quickly, touching the back of her neck. That was when Brittany saw some writing on the inside of the brunette's tanned forearm.

"What's that?" The dancer asked with curiosity, pointing at the writing in question with furrowed eyebrows.

"Uh, nothing," Santana awkwardly replied, putting her arm down as a reflex, which read '_Riley_' in black and had a phone number below.

"Come on, tell her stud," Jimmy wickedly piped in, looking from Santana to Brittany and back.

"Like I said, it's nothing. Just some girl's number from last night, I guess. She wrote it with a pencil eyeliner, I couldn't wash it off. I've got to buy a makeup remover," the brown-eyed woman stated aloofly and dismissively.

"A _girl_?" Brittany asked rhetorically, eyes growing wider as she tried to hold the other woman's stare.

"A _hot_ girl," Jimmy interjected with enthusiasm, curiously eying the women through his black wayfarer. Maybe his best friend's ex needed a little nudge to realize what she was missing. Call him a hopeless romantic, but Jimmy couldn't help but think this whole situation was sort of ludicrous. These two women were perfect together. Perfect for each other. He could only _dream_ of finding a woman who would make him as happy as they were. And there they were: squandering everything.

"I wouldn't know. We were both extremely wasted," Santana countered nonchalantly, eying her friend to assess what was his deal bringing this stuff up. "And now we have a nasty hangover."

"Well, I imagine you _would_ know from minutes ago," the hazel-eyed man shot back with a grin, and that time he did receive a glare from Santana and a surprised look from Brittany.

"She, uh, she was just returning my license that I forgot at the club," the brunette explained despite herself. "Apparently I made a big deal about showing it to the bartender to prove I wasn't underage," Santana added, rolling her eyes and shaking her head at her own drunken antics.

"You two went out to a club last night?" Brittany asked with untamed curiosity. "In Lima?" She added with a doubtful voice.

"It wasn't a big deal, just a little outing to drink and unwind," Santana said, starting to feel a bit awkward. This was still all very new to her, but she was definitely getting better.

"It seemed like a big deal when you drunkenly burst into song in the middle of your lap dance with Riley, that's her name by the way. You know, when you were still in the buzzed phase. Before you turned all weepy, like you always do," Jimmy joked and it took a while for Brittany to get the picture.

"I did _not_ sing," Santana countered, crossing her arms across her chest defensively.

"Did too."

"I did no such thing."

"You went to a _strip_ club? This _Riley_ girl is a _stripper_?" Brittany asked rapidly, interrupting the two friends' childish quarrel.

"Uh huh," Jimmy hummed his confirmation, looking briefly from Santana to Brittany and back. And then he added smugly, resuming the argument, "It's that song. The one with a girl's name as the title... Bloody hell, I forgot the name! Because, you know; Santana 'The Charmer' Lopez here substituted the actual name for 'Riley'. What is it called?" The man tried hard to remember the lyrics to one-up the brunette as he hummed the tune and Brittany watched attentively.

"It's from that English band. My homeboys…" Jimmy pressed on with a smile and began singing, "_I miss her ginger hair_ – because Riley is a ginger and all – Something, something… _Stop making me a fool_…"

"_Valerie_?" Brittany cried out in recognition whilst staring at Jimmy, placing her hands on her hips and looking pointedly to Santana. "That was Santana's jam back in the day," she added sort of dejectedly.

"_That's_ the one!" The tall man stated, pointing at the blonde with a toothy grin. "_Why won't you come on over, Riiiiiley? Riley!_" He sang through laughter, teasing and taunting Santana. "That's right, you two were in that geek club back in high school."

"_Glee_ club," Brittany corrected offhandedly.

"Tomato. Tomato," Jimmy deadpanned dismissively, speaking both words differently.

"Oh, God…" Santana trailed on, face-palming whilst shaking her head. "I _did_ sing that, didn't I? It's all coming back to me now," the brown-eyed woman added with resignation, remembering things slowly.

"I _told_ you!" Jimmy gloated with no reservations.

"You're not considering dating this _stripper_, are you, Santana?" Brittany asked with a scorned, judgmental tone, not able to hold back.

The tone didn't sit well with the brunette. "First of all, she's not a stripper. She's an exotic dancer. Second, from what I _vaguely_ remember she only does that to pay for nursing school," seeing the two pairs of inquisitive eyes on her she added in a huff, "What? I wasn't drunk all night, ok? I listened. And third, _you_," she looked at Brittany, "have no say on who I should or shouldn't date. So, yeah, maybe I _should_ give her a call," Santana head-strongly finished with a raise of head for effect.

"You deserve better, San," Brittany replied with a petulant tone of her own, hands still on her hips.

"You don't even _know_ her. Besides, you're a dancer, too; you shouldn't be so hard on her."

"Excuse me? I don't take my clothes off for money."

"Well, I've seen you dancing in very little and you got paid to do it. So…"

"Santana! Men don't touch me while I dance," Brittany admonished through narrowed eyes. "Are you calling me a stripper?"

"You can't touch the strippers either, Britt. _Huge_ bouncers… Trust me, I tried once," Jimmy piped in to try to diffuse the tension a bit, but oblivious to the fact that he was putting more wood into the fire.

"I'm not calling you a stripper," Santana conceded with a tired sigh, looking down to the floor and back to the blonde. "All I'm saying is don't judge," she added softly.

Brittany held Santana's gaze and sighed as well. She was indeed being ridiculous and letting the green jealousy monster take over her. So, she nodded and backed up a bit, opening the double doors to the classroom to call out, "Sorry, guys. Five more minutes… Carry on with the warm-up, ok?" The dancer closed the door again and went back to the two friends.

In dire need of a subject change Brittany asked meekly, "So, have you checked with Q and Rach? When are they arriving?"

"Jimmy and I were on Skype with Quinn just minutes ago. They are arriving late this afternoon. We're picking them up at the airport," Santana informed casually.

"Oh, can't I pick them up? They are already staying with you. I miss them so much," Brittany said through a trademark pout.

"Be my guest," the brunette replied dismissively, still feeling the effects of the pout, unfortunately, and Jimmy uttered a woo-hoo to the prospect of not having to drive all that way. "But what about Zoey?"

"I was going to ask you if you could pick her up at school today anyway. I'm pretty swamped here today. So, this would only be an extension of sorts."

"Yeah, I can get her."

"Can't wait to finally see my goddaughter again!"

"So, are we set?" Brittany asked the brunette.

"Yes, I'll text you their flight information," Santana quickly replied.

"And I'll pick Zoey up when I drop Quinn and Rach at your place. Alright, I should get back to my class. Great seeing you, Jimmy!" The dancer said with a smile. "And thanks for coming when I asked, San," she added sweetly with a broader smile, locking blue eyes on brown ones. And feeling a weird drop in her chest as she remembered the whole _Riley_ business. She already didn't like the girl and she hadn't even _met_ her. This wasn't like her.

"Always," Santana shot back in earnest, half-smiling. Despite her reservations, it _was_ the truth. If the blonde needed her, she would be there for her. Regardless of her being moving on or not.

Brittany might as well have melted right there at the reception area.

They said their goodbyes and went their ways.

Brittany missed a couple of steps during that day of teaching dance. Brittany _never_ missed one single step.

* * *

><p>That Saturday afternoon Santana arrived at Brittany's house with a big, pink cake box in hand. They – Santana, Jimmy, Quinn and Rachel – had arrived a bit earlier to help out with preparation and stuff if needed be. Entering the blonde's house, which had its front door opened, she quickly spotted Zoey in the kitchen.<p>

"Hello there, birthday girl," Santana greeted her daughter with a wide smile, placing the cake box on the kitchen island.

"Hi, Mama!" Zoey replied, matching the brunette's smile. "What's that?" The kid added curiously, eying the box on top of the island.

"It's your cake," the brown-eyed woman stated offhandedly, and then she added with a broader smile on her face whilst picking up the little girl, "Come here… Happy birthday, baby!" She then kissed the girl's cheek.

"Four years, huh? You're getting so big…"

"_Very_ big."

"Promise me not to grow too fast?" Santana asked half-playfully, entirely-honestly while looking deeply into blue eyes.

"Ok." Zoey replied offhandedly since she had no idea what she could do to mess that up.

"Where's Mommy?"

"In the backyard with Grandma and Grandpa," the blue-eyed girl informed absentmindedly. "Where are Uncle Jimmy, and Aunt Q and Aunt Rach?"

"They are helping me unload the cupcakes…" Santana said, putting the kid down, and then she hunched over to look the girl in the eye and added ceremoniously with a cheeky grin, "…and our _presents _for you."

Zoey beamed and Jenna came entering the kitchen through the hallway.

"Santana…" Jenna trailed on in ackknowledgment through a half-smile.

"Gemma…" Santana trailed on in the same fashion and shifted her gaze from the annoyed petite blonde to her little girl when she started to giggle.

"It's not 'Gemma', silly. It's 'Jenna'," Zoey stated through giggles, looking up at her Mama and feeling quite proud of being this smart.

"Right," the brunette woman dragged out the word with a smile whilst shaking her head, looking down at her daughter. "Silly me, huh?" She added theatrically whilst tickling Zoey, stealing a glance at Jenna who was already heading towards the door in the kitchen that led to the backyard.

"Let's see what's taking those three Bozos so long, shall we?" Santana said jokingly as she took Zoey's small hand in hers.

* * *

><p>The party was going on at full swing. Everything was very nice and simple. No big crowd and no huge fuss, like Brittany always liked. Mr. Pierce was in charge of grilling the burgers and hot-dogs, the kids were running around the small backyard playing, and the adults were scattered here and there engaged in easy conversation whilst drinking and eating. Santana and Maggie chatted animatedly with Rob and Annie Pierce by the grill; Rachel, Danes, Danny, Jimmy and Ally talked calmly by the kids' table; Jenna and her friend Paula from Wal-Mart sat at one of the adults' tables whilst eating some burgers; Lisa and Tracy – Gracie's mother – chatted at another table; Richard, Diane and Rosa did the same at a third table; and Quinn and Brittany talked near Rachel and the others.<p>

After some talking Quinn noticed that Brittany was, every once in a while, shooting these weird looks at Santana; who, as per usual, had the camera around her neck and shot photos galore of their daughter from afar. "Ok, what's up with you and Santana?" The shorter blonde asked with exasperation after just witnessing another look.

"What?" The taller blonde replied with confusion, looking at Quinn's face directly. "Nothing's up," she added quickly, taking a sip of wine from her red plastic cup.

"You're a terrible liar. You know that?" Quinn asked with a raised eyebrow.

After a few seconds the blue-eyed woman conceded. It wasn't like she wasn't dying to talk about this and get it off of her mind. "Santana met someone. A girl. A _hot_ girl, apparently. Who asked her out or something like that," the dancer blurted out with velocity and a tinge of agony.

"Ah, I see you know of Riley," the hazel-eyed woman stated with a ceremonious tone, taking a sip of her wine from the blue plastic cup in her hand.

"Wait, _you_ know of Riley?" Brittany asked with shock, placing a hand on the petite blonde's forearm as a reflex. "Did Santana mention her to you?" She added with morbid curiosity.

"Actually, I've met her," Quinn answered with a well-constructed casual tone. "Sort of."

"What?" The blue-eyed woman spat out in disbelief. Her heart began racing at the prospects and scenarios that began playing in her mind. They weren't pretty. "How? When? Is she pretty?" She added rapidly, having a hard time to conceal how much she cared. _God, why can't I be one of those people that can act all blasé at the drop of a pin? Like Santana, for instance_; the blonde thought bitterly.

"Calm down, Britt. You'll have a heart-attack like that," Quinn softly said. It was hard seeing her friends at that state. They clearly still loved each other and yet… they were apart. She was no hopeless romantic, but deep down the hazel-eyed woman still believed they would find their way back to each other. Eventually.

"So…"

"I was on Skype with Santana and Jimmy yesterday morning, we were talking and suddenly we heard the bell ringing. Santana told him to get it and after a few seconds he comes back with this woman by his side. He said it was Riley from last night and apparently she had Santana's driver's license. After that Santana said a quick goodbye and disconnected."

"_And_, is she pretty?"

Quinn laughed at Brittany's antics. The poor thing did wear her heart on her sleeve. "I didn't meet her in person, you know, it was only for a few moments through a webcam," Quinn said but seeing her friend's relentless look she added, "Well, she's taller than you, redhead, in-shape, green eyes, I think… long hair, and that's about it."

"Sounds hot," Brittany said nervously, stealing another glance at a laughing Santana who talked to the dancer's folks. "She looks like whom? Which actress?" She added, trying her best to picture this _other woman_. She did better with visual aide.

"I don't know, Britt…"

"Think."

Quinn did just that, she hated seeing the tall blonde in distress. After a beat she stated, "She kinda looks like that actress… God, what's her name? There's a big poster of her and some dude on this bus stop near our place," Quinn tried to dig out but it was futile. So, she called out in a low tone to Rachel, who stood near the two women, "Honey, what's the name of that actress, you know, that one on the bus stop poster that we pass by every day?"

"The redhead?" Rachel asked subtly and it got Jimmy's attention as the blonde nodded. They were definitely talking about Riley. It brought a small smile to his lips. Maybe they _were_ onto the right road. "Karen Gillan, I reckon," she added and Quinn thanked her before they got back to their own talks.

"I don't know who that is," Brittany whined through furrowed brows. This did nothing to her. "What movie was she in?" She added, desperately grasping at straws.

Before Quinn could reply Rob Pierce asked Brittany to bring in some more burger patties because the kids were devouring them.

"Walk with me," Brittany sort of ordered and Quinn did what she was told. The tall woman looked kind of unhinged. "So?" She added as they approached the door to the kitchen.

"What?" Quinn asked a bit lost in their conversation.

"The movie?" Brittany helped her with a bit of exasperation as they entered the kitchen. She was starting to sound like a mad woman. She clearly underestimated the strength of her feelings when it came to this topic. Thank God she was talking to Quinn and not Santana. Or worst, Jenna. Right then she knew that she needed to learn how to control these emotions, and she needed to learn fast. Both women threw their empty cups on the kitchen's trashcan.

Quinn thought as Brittany opened up her freezer to grab the asked items. "Actually, I haven't seen anything with her in it," the hazel-eyed woman declared, leaning against the kitchen island.

Brittany shot her a pointed look from over her shoulder as she took the tray of burger patties from the freezer. The blue-eyed woman sighed, closed the freezer's door and placed the tray on top of the island as she thought hard. She had that scrunched up look on her face that always appeared when she was thinking with all her might.

"Britt?" Quinn asked tentatively, seeing her friend's face turn from scrunched up to smug.

"I have an idea. Do that thing…" Brittany said gladly, pointing to a laptop on top of the kitchen table, "…like when you were at the hospital visiting Santana and you showed her a bunch of pictures of canes, you know, to help her find a cool one. Just put the actress' name instead."

"You mean Google-Image her?" Quinn asked after a beat, unable to keep a smile off of her face.

"Yeah, that's it… I think… Just do your thing," the dancer said with a pleased grin on her face while ushering Quinn to the laptop and forcing her to sit down.

"You are something else, B," the petite blonde stated with amusement as she opened up the browser. "Here we go," she added, typing with ease and pressing enter as the screen got filled with pictures.

"Oh," was all that came from Brittany's mouth as her eyes widened.

"This girl is definitely younger..." Quinn assessed the pictures in front of them while scrolling down, "Riley's eyes are green and her face is less round than this girl's, but the hair, height and figure are very similar. _Especially_ the hair. Identical, really. I think maybe she's a bit shorter than this girl though, I didn't have much time to look," she added, looking up to gauge her silent friend's reaction.

"_Very_ pretty," Brittany muttered flatly more to herself than to her friend.

"Come on, Britt… Don't be like that. We don't even know if Santana will call her and, besides, you knew this would happen eventually," Quinn said softly and honestly, turning on her seat to run a comforting hand up and down the taller blonde's arm.

"I know," the blue-eyed woman replied quickly. And then she put on a happy face, she needed to adjust to this. It was imperative. And Quinn was right, maybe Santana wouldn't even call her. Yeah, she should hang on to that thought. Santana _wouldn't_ call Riley. Little did she know that the brunette had already done it.

"I know," Brittany repeated with more enthusiasm and a smile, but Quinn wasn't really sure if she bought it. However, before she had a chance to delve Santana entered the kitchen.

"Are you two killing the cows to get the meat or what? Your dad…" Santana started to ask in a huff but taking in the looks on her friend and ex's faces she stopped talking and amended after a second, "Ok, what are you two up to?" And she raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow as Quinn shut the laptop brusquely.

"Nothing," Brittany answered a bit too eagerly.

"Yeah, nothing," Quinn backed her up also a bit too eagerly.

"Yes, and I was born yesterday," Santana said with sarcasm, approaching the kitchen table where the two blondes were.

"Whatever it is it isn't of your concern, Santana," the hazel-eyed woman playfully snubbed the brunette with a smile, and then she added, "So, just get going, because so are we. Right, B?"

"Right," the dancer confirmed anxiously, looking from Quinn to Santana and back and blinking way too much.

"Then bring out the patties, sneaky little liars," Santana replied, shaking her head for emphasis.

Brittany went on to get the tray of burger patties and proceeded to leave the kitchen towards the backyard. As Quinn followed her and passed by Santana the brunette whispered, "We'll have a little chat later."

"You wish," the hazel-eyed woman stated confidently with a smirk as she and Santana followed the dancer outside. "Where's the camera? Done playing frantic paparazzi mom?" She added teasingly.

"I passed it over to Jimmy so I could come and get you two. Can't miss any of the action, you know?"

"You officially lost it, Lopez."

"Shut up, Fabray." Both women grinned widely at each other.

* * *

><p>"We should sing happy birthday and cut the cake. Parents should be picking up their kids soon. I don't want to rush it," Brittany stated as most of the adult guests were gathered around her doing some mingling.<p>

Several people nodded and after a beat Maggie called out, "Connor, stop hitting Calvin. Christian, untangle your brothers," and then directing her gaze to the adults she added, "I better go there. I'll take the opportunity and tell the kids to gather around the birthday cake table, Brittany."

The blonde dancer smiled and Santana said, "Thanks, Maggs."

There was an awkward moment when everybody was gathered around the table. Santana didn't know if she was supposed to stand next to Brittany and Zoey, and Jenna shared her exact sentiment. Both women were caught staring around themselves and that was when Ally Pierce sort of shouted playfully at Santana, "Won't you stand beside your daughter, Mama? The clock is ticking, you know?"

"Yeah, Mama, come on…" Zoey said with a smile and a chocolate covered mouth. The kids had attacked the cupcakes with unforeseen velocity and tenacity.

The teenager and Santana shared a wide grin as the brunette walked around the table to go to her daughter, stopping on her way to there to hand Jimmy the camera yet again.

Everybody was smiling and suddenly Jenna felt like the ultimate stranger at her own house. Yeah, the winds were definitely changing.

Sensing her friend's distress Paula, a chubby mid-thirties short brunette with long hair and hazel eyes, said softly, "It's not what you're thinking, you know? It's their kid, it's only natural. But _you're_ Brittany's wife. _You_ know that and _she_ knows that. Don't go getting any crazy ideas." And then she shot a tight-lipped smiled to Jenna who stood by her and matched said smile.

"I'm afraid there's more to it than we both would like to think," Jenna stated wistfully. She knew her friend had a point. Brittany really made it clear to her since the beginning of their relationship that she wasn't Zoey's other mother. She and the kid shared a bond, but Brittany always kept her at arm's length when the girl was concerned. However, when the _dancer_ was concerned, she really did let Jenna in.

"Don't you trust her?"

"With my life."

"Then there's your answer."

As on cue, after Jimmy had snapped a few photos, Brittany called out, "Jenna, come stand beside me." The blue-eyed woman did not dare to steal a glance at Santana that time. She feared she would find something unpleasant there. And it was probably the right decision because at that instant a cloud passed ever-so-briefly through Santana's eyes. But she did a fine job disguising it. No one had the expertise to notice it… apart from Brittany, that is. And at that _same_ instant the brunette realized she had made the right move calling Riley. She desperately needed to move on with her life. No matter how hard it would be.

They sang happy birthday, Zoey gushed over the rabbit-shaped cake – which was initially meant to be a duck but Mary swore on her grandkids' lives, per Santana's request, that she did not know how nor could make a duck-shaped cake – and everybody ate the delicious treat. After a while some parents started to show up to pick up their kids.

* * *

><p>Santana had to move her car so Lisa could get out with hers, since some jerk decided to box the latter. Lisa, who was accompanied by her son Jeremy, was giving Tracy and her daughter Grace a ride; so, Zoey went along with Santana for the car removal to have a few more minutes with her two best friends.<p>

They headed back; Santana held Zoey against her hip as they entered the backyard and the brunette woman made her way towards Quinn and Rachel, putting her daughter down along the way per her request. The party was dying down.

"Where's Jimmy?" Santana asked absentmindedly, looking around but not spotting the English man. She could spot Zoey joining Brittany, Jenna and her friend, Paula on the other side of the backyard, though. Seeing her kid laugh with the _other woman_ made her feel all kinds of bad and jealous inside, but she pushed those feelings down.

"Oh, he's putting some music inside. Britt's orders. Everyone was tired of children's tunes already," Quinn informed her flatly.

"I suggested Barbra but Brittany doesn't seem to have it, which by itself it's a crime," Rachel piped in with disbelief in her tone of voice as Quinn and Santana shared a mocking look. "We should give her a collection on her birthday, honey," she added with sheer joy and Quinn merely nodded to appease her wife. The couple was doing much better since Rachel started to manage her working hours better, and even came to Ohio with Quinn for Zoey's birthday despite the fact that her play was up and running back in NYC.

A song started to reverberate through the late afternoon air as Jimmy came through the kitchen door into the backyard. Santana recognized the first notes instantly. How could she not? She had been listening to that song obsessively for the last few months. It especially gave her energy to power through the many miles of her daily morning runs.

"Where did you get that song?" Santana asked Jimmy with wide eyes, trying to conceal her panic as the tall man approached the three women.

"Oh, yeah, Brittany said her iPod was back at the studio and that Jenna's was pretty much a desert island; so, I told her I would grab yours in your purse. I know you carry that thing with you everywhere you go," Jimmy answered casually as the first few lines started to be heard.

_No wonder I'm scared to look in your eyes,  
><em>_You've turned me away so many times,  
><em>_You can take it away at any given moment,  
><em>_It's hard to believe while you're in this disguise…_

_Damn_, Santana thought. Of _all_ the songs in her iPod it had to start with _that_ one. Well, come to think of it, it wasn't that bad considering her playlist was heavily – ok, wholly – composed of songs that reminded her of a certain blonde dancer and their current situation. Truth be told, music always had helped her cope in the past. It was why she was so into it. And it was also certainly helping her now. So, she took a deep breath and decided it could be worst. It could have played that _Margot & The Nuclear So and So's_ one, or that _Okkervil River_ one… God, it could have played that _Elliott Smith_ one! She should be thankful, at least this wasn't as bitter as most of the alternatives… just kind of pathetic and sad. _Yeah, total score!_ Now she only had to find an excuse to shut the dock station after this song and before more embarrassing jams could be played. Brittany caught up with the song lyrics and immediately looked over at Santana.

_So would you hold me please?  
><em>_I'm trying hard to breathe,  
><em>_I'm just surviving,  
><em>_So would you hold me please?  
><em>_I'm trying hard to breathe,  
><em>_Stop me from crying,  
><em>_When I see you walking with her,  
><em>_I have to cover my eyes (I have to cover my eyes),  
><em>_Every time you leave with her,  
><em>_Something inside me dies (Something inside of me dies)…_

Blue eyes locked on chocolate ones ever-so-briefly but the intensity of it all brought so many feelings to surface that it was hard for them to know where they stood and what their names were. The dancer knew this was Santana's iPod and the song in itself was mighty revealing. The words made her chest hurt and Jenna – albeit not knowing the owner nor the underlying greater meaning behind the song; frankly, she wasn't even really listening because she was preoccupied with watching her wife – couldn't _not_ see the stolen glances here and there.

"See what I mean?" The green-eyed blonde rhetorically asked her friend in whisper tone and Paula, who was just as oblivious to the whole meaning of the situation but heard the words of the song and wasn't stupid nor too wrapped up in her own feelings to put two and two together, simply watched the interaction with a disguised concerned look. Jenna did not know how many more of these signs she could ignore before really confronting her wife. Her fear of doing so was beyond belief, but one day it would be inevitable; and that was what scared her the most, she guessed. She was an incredibly patient person, but even for her this was becoming a tall order.

_No wonder it hurts to sit by your side,  
><em>_(Turned me away so many times),  
><em>_There's a different song I can play you tonight,  
><em>_(We don't have to sit here in silence),  
><em>_We can break the pattern, we can change the colour,  
><em>_(It's just a little sacrifice),  
><em>_You don't need to worry about the others,  
><em>_(It's all in your mind),_

Santana, yet again, felt like digging a whole and crawling into it. Everyone – at least in her mind it was everyone – seemed to be aware of what was transpiring and it was awkward as hell. Thank God Zoey was still too young to pick up on the tense atmosphere and associate it with a song that was nothing more that beat to her ears. Conversely, each line felt like a stab into Brittany's and Santana's hearts. The blonde felt like running towards the brunette and hugging her, kissing her, comforting her… What wouldn't she give to be able to overcome her own personality and character in order to do just so. It was excruciating!

_So would you hold me please?  
><em>_I'm trying hard to breathe,  
><em>_I'm just surviving,  
><em>_So would you hold me please?  
><em>_I'm trying hard to breathe,  
><em>_Stop me from crying,  
><em>_When I see you walking with her,  
><em>_I have to cover my eyes (I have to cover my eyes),  
><em>_Every time you leave with her,  
><em>_Something inside me dies (Something inside of me dies)…_

"Wow! Subtle song, huh, San?" Jimmy teased her with a smile. The three friends knew quite well the _whole_ meaning behind it. It was better to point out the fact, the elephant in the room, than to stand around feeling awkward.

"Yeah, now I see why you were so pale and freaking out when you first heard it," Rachel joined in on the mocking, smiling brightly as Quinn did the same.

"Great! Awesome friends the three of you are," Santana quipped, severing eye contact entirely with Brittany while she felt a blush creep up to her cheeks. Whether induced by shame or anger she did not know. "This is not funny, you know?" She added with a familiar scowl but there was utter honesty behind her words, and her friends got it.

"We know," Quinn stated reassuringly, bumping shoulders with the brunette doctor and offering her a knowing smile. "But better make it light than bear the heaviness, right?" The petite blonde added tentatively and Santana half-heartedly nodded her confirmation.

The song finished its last painfully desperate lines and strongly marked beats, and Jimmy went on ahead and stealthily disengaged Santana's gadget from the playing device. "Some malfunction or something," he said with a yellow smile to no one in particular when he came back out, but nobody seemed to care anyhow.

Brittany shot one last look at Santana and the brunette unwillingly held it for a few seconds, which felt like ages to both parties. They would have to come up with another word for 'awkward' because it wasn't quite cutting anymore.

* * *

><p>The party had ended; everyone had left but Santana, Quinn, Jimmy and Rachel, but at that moment they were on their way to the former's car. Zoey and Brittany walked with them.<p>

"I bet you wish you had done the party at my place now, huh?" Santana asked with a sly smile on her face. She had offered her house for the party since it had a substantially bigger backyard; but the dancer declined, insisting it would be a small gathering.

"Yeah," Brittany nodded with a tight-lipped smile, playing along. "I thought you guys would at least hang around to help out with the mess," she added in a joking tone, morphing her smile into a broad grin.

"Well, that's how you know we're friends," Quinn piped in with a grin, holding Rachel's hand. "Real friends just eat and leave. They don't stick around to deal with the gross aftermath," the petite blonde added with confidence.

"Wow, how cynical of you, Fabray…" Jimmy stated with a flat tone, looking sideways at Quinn. And then after a beat he added, opening up a toothy smile, "And I couldn't have said it better." The tall British man held up his arm for the hazel-eyed woman to high-five him, but she just rolled her eyes and ignored him. Zoey, however, didn't leave her uncle hanging as she held her little arm up to high-five him.

"_That's_ my girl," Jimmy stated with pride, high-fiving the blue-eyed kid as she smiled widely.

"Actually, get your paws off of her, Jimbo! She's _all_ mine," Santana quipped, picking up her daughter who felt extremely overjoyed by this flattering interaction concerning her little self.

"Nah, huh… She all _ours_," Brittany corrected her ex-wife with a grin, running one hand through the kid's long brown hair and motioning between herself and Santana with the other.

"Can't she be of all of us?" Rachel interjected with a high-pitched tone, unlacing her fingers from Quinn's to wrap an arm around the blonde's shoulders.

Santana couldn't help but feel a bit envious of the action. She remembered days when she could just as easily do the same to Brittany. She looked sideways at the tall blonde and looked away in a flash when the blue-eyed woman felt brown eyes on her and turned her head towards the source.

The thought was quickly suppressed when Santana said with a firm mock tone, "I don't know. I'm extremely territorial…" and then she looked at Zoey in the eye as the kid cuddled into her hold and added, "What do you say, baby?"

Loving all the attention, Zoey proclaimed with a toothy grin of her own, "I can be everybody's, Mama."

"So it's settled, then," Santana mockingly announced with a pompous tone, putting the kid on the ground after kissing her temple.

Everyone playfully let out 'yays' and 'woo-hoos' and Zoey felt like the most special kid in the world. She rather liked the feeling because she felt tremendously loved.

The three friends kept walking to the black Range Rover to give Santana and Brittany a moment alone. The two women stopped a few feet from the vehicle with Zoey by their side.

"So…" Brittany dragged out with a smile, unwillingly looking from Santana's chocolate eyes to her full lips and unconsciously licking her own in the process. It was a familiar reflex move. "Can you believe our baby is four years old already?" The blonde added, looking down at a smiling Zoey and back up at the brunette's eyes.

"I know," Santana sighed out, matching the dancer's smile as she brought their daughter closer to her leg into a half-hug. "I made her promise not to grow up too fast earlier, isn't that right, Z?" She added wistfully, looking down and meeting the kid's blue eyes as they turned upwards to meet her brown ones. After a beat the little girl nodded.

"Really? And what did you say, sweetie? I hope you agreed because that is an awesome promise," the blonde woman said, looking down at their little one who wasn't so little anymore… but still was, and _always_ would be to them.

"I said yes," Zoey replied melodically and proudly, glad to be at her mommies' favour.

"Good," the blonde woman announced cheerfully, looking from Zoey to Santana, who had this amazing look of adoration and awe at their daughter. It made Brittany's heart swell and beat erratically.

Sometimes she wished Santana wasn't… you know, _Santana_. The blue-eyed woman truly wished that not all of the brunette's words, looks, touches, gestures and whatnots, caused this big of an effect on her. Every little thing had gigantic proportions within her and it would be so much easier it weren't the case. However, if Santana weren't _Santana_… _she_ would most likely not be Brittany. Because it had always been extremely hard for her to tell where she ended and where Santana began. That's how intertwined and connected they truly were… and still are. Plus, if Santana weren't _Santana_… and she, Brittany weren't _Brittany_… it was certain that there would be _no Zoey_. And _that_ was a world she definitely wouldn't want to be in. A world where her notion of _family_ wouldn't exist.

The thought made the dancer think of when she first found out she was pregnant with Zoey. So Brittany let out tenderly, locking eyes with Santana, "It's still true, you know?"

"What?" Santana asked softly, furrowing her brows slightly in confusion as Zoey watched her mothers with undivided attention.

"What I said to you the day I told you about her," Brittany clarified with a knowing, sweet smile.

Santana knew instantly what her ex-wife was talking about. How could she not? All those wonderful memories were etched upon her very soul with such strength that words were simply bound to fail to describe.

"Do you remember?" The blue-eyed woman amended barely above a whisper, taking in Santana's delayed response due to the brunette's own feelings-induced introspection.

"Of course," came the brown-eyed woman's immediate, honest reply. And then she shook her head instinctively to shake off the memories before she added, "And I agree; it still is… We still are."

Her answer seemed to have pleased Brittany, because her crystal-blue eyes glinted and her smile broadened in that way which always made Santana's heart skip a beat. Zoey mimicked her mommy's smile and the questions in her head started to form with more clarity than ever before. Before she could materialize and vocalize them, though; Santana said softly to her daughter, who still found herself wrapped on the brunette's leg, "Hey, bug, why don't you go say your goodbyes to your aunts and uncle? They are leaving tomorrow and I'm sure they would love that."

Zoey looked at Santana with a Brittany-esque pout. She was reluctant to go, to put it very mildly. The little girl didn't exactly know why, but this conversation was interesting to her. It made her think stuff she hasn't thought before and it also left her feeling warm inside. She was definitely enjoying the experience.

"Please," Santana added pleadingly and Zoey managed to tear herself away from both women as she dragged her feet towards her godparents. Jimmy welcomed her by picking the girl up and the three adults started to talk about whether she was excited to open up her pile of presents and dropped hints about what they had gotten her, which seemed to improve her mood.

Brittany looked just as curious as she looked confused. Santana locked eyes with her, took a deep breath and stated, "We still are," Santana reiterated, picking up where she had left off with a firm and steady voice. "Only in a different way," she added, dropping her gaze a bit as she felt unable to hold that ever-so-piercing blue stare.

"What do you mean?" Brittany asked in confusion but felt uneasy with the statement from the get-go.

"You know what I mean, B," the brown-eyed woman replied softly, meeting the blonde's eyes again. "You moved on. I'm starting to do the same – I called Riley," Brittany's heart raced at the information and she shifted her gaze to the floor for an instant before returning them to the brunette's face to not show her hurt so blatantly, "It's not much and it probably will end up in nothing but it's a start – I… It's not the same as it was before. It can't be, you know that…" she finished weakly.

Life might as well not be a paragraph, and death no parenthesis, but Santana was determined to not let this in-between state of hers become a final period. She was read to try her next sentence. Whether it turned out incoherent or not, she did not care.

Every cell in Brittany's body wanted to protest, wanted to ask '_Why not?_', wanted to state '_It can be_'… but she couldn't. It pained her to assess that Santana was right, at least to some extent. As for the rest of it the brunette would probably never know. So, the dancer settled for saying, "I know."

Santana flashed her a small smile and said after a beat, "Zoey… she will _always_ connect us."

"She will," Brittany replied bitter-sweetly her utter agreement, matching the brunette's smile.

They stayed in comfortable silence only looking at each other for a few seconds.

Santana broke it, "I better go. Those three are waiting," she said with a tight-lipped smile and the dancer nodded.

After several hugs and goodbyes everyone went their way, some feeling lighter than others.

_Seeing Brittany's keys in the multicolored artsy bowl on top of the foyer's sideboard where she just threw hers, Santana deduced her wife was home. She instinctively adjusted her ponytail in front of the mirror that hung above said sideboard and went towards the noises that were coming from the kitchen._

"_Babe, it's me," Santana began saying as she walked through their apartment, still wearing blue scrubs and a white doctor's coat underneath a beige trench coat. "You won't believe the day I had, I mean, I had to keep reminding myself that I took an oath to save lives instead of taking them," she added in a whiny tone. "This lady in surgery ju –" Santana stopped mid-sentence as she arrived at the kitchen and saw the sight before her: the table was completely and properly set in the fanciest of ways, wine bottle opened and candles were lit on top of it. Brittany stood behind the kitchen island with a megawatt smile._

"_What's all this?" Santana softly asked, looking directly at her wife. "I know it's not our anniversary. Please tell me it's not one of those anniversary and a half, or anniversary and a quarter, or whatever other occasion you seem to come up with and I forgot. Because I'm sure I put them all in my PDA and –" the brunette rambled on and Brittany cut her off._

"_It's not, babe," Brittany interjected with the smile still in place, rounding the kitchen island to come closer to her wife. "Although this year's anniversary and a quarter is only eight days away," she deadpanned, grabbing Santana's hand and leading her to the table._

_The dancer forced the brown-eyed woman down on a chair at the set table. "Then what is this about?" Santana asked curiously, looking up into blue eyes._

"_Can't I do something nice for my wife without any hidden notebook?"_

"_You mean 'agenda'."_

"_What agenda?"_

"_No agenda," Santana said dismissively, shaking her head with a smile as she took in her wife's fine appearance. The blue-eyed woman was completely dressed-up. "You look really good, babe. Not that you ever look bad, but man, that little number is doing things to me!" The brunette added with a wicked smile as she tried to grab Brittany by the wrist but got her hand swatted away._

"_Nah, dinner first, San," Brittany stated with a wide grin, walking towards the oven as the brown-eyed woman sulked. "And thanks, I'm glad you like it," she added, shooting a glance at her wife from over her shoulder._

"_I'm feeling incredibly under-dressed, though," Santana piped in absentmindedly, watching her wife's backside with gusto as she got free from her trench coat and dropped it on another chair._

"_You look good in anything. Besides, you know how scrubs turn me on," the blonde said from afar and even though Santana couldn't see her face she could picture her wife's smirk with uncanny clarity._

_Santana did know. Thoughts of them playing doctor started to swim through her head as Brittany made her way back to the table and placed a small jar on top of each of their plates and sat down herself._

_Coming down from her naughty thoughts with a pleased smile, Santana finally looked down at her plate to start eating when she noticed the small jar. "What the…" The brown-eyed woman trailed off, dropping the smile and stealing a glance at her wife's smiling face._

"_Is this…" Santana trailed off again, looking down at her plate and back at her wife, who still held the same toothy grin. "This is baby food," she added matter-of-factly and after a beat the light bulb finally went on in her head. "Britt, are you…" Santana trailed off yet again, seemingly unable to form a complete, proper sentence._

_Brittany smiled brightly at her and all of the sudden she felt this myriad of emotions running through her body as she mimicked her wife's smile and properly asked softly, "Are you trying to tell me you're pregnant, babe?"_

_The blue-eyed woman took her wife's hand on top of the table and replied with teary eyes, "Yes, I am pregnant, San."_

"_Are you sure?" Santana asked with doubt, smile still in place as her thumb caressed the back of Brittany's hand._

"_Yes, I took three different tests from the drugstore and they all turned positive. Then I called Stella and asked her to do a rush official test for me," Brittany said gleefully, taking a piece of paper from under the tablecloth and handing it to her wife who immediately started reading it, "It came back positive as well. I'm pregnant, babe," she finished with a chuckle._

_Santana replied in a daze without taking her eyes off the paper, "I didn't even see you at the practice. Why didn't you come and get me?"_

"_I went when I knew you'd be at the hospital. I didn't want to get your hopes up… our hopes up before I knew for sure."_

_The brunette kept her eyes glued to the paper and the dancer began to feel preoccupied. So, she held her wife's hand a bit tighter. "Are you ok? Are you happy?" Brittany asked tentatively, staring at her wife who stared at the paper._

_Santana tossed the sheet of paper on the table and exclaimed, "Of course I'm happy! Babe, I'm ecstatic, I'm jubilant… I don't have words to describe how amazing this is!"_

_She stood up and took Brittany with her, embracing her wife with all she got. This had been their third try and the previous two failures had been hard on both of them._

"_Good, because you know you put it in me," Brittany said cheerfully and seriously in Santana's ear, with her arms still wrapped tightly around her best friend's neck._

_Santana laughed out loud and replied without letting the blonde go, "I thought we talked about how it's impossible –"_

"_I know, but Stella did let you seal the deal by pushing that thingy," the blue-eyed woman interjected in layman's terms as she pulled back to look at the brunette's face, arms still loosely locked around the brown-eyed woman's neck._

"_True," Santana conceded with a foolishly happy smile, hands wrapped around the dancer's waist as brown eyes held blue ones for long seconds before she crashed her lips against Brittany's in the tenderest of kisses._

_Pulling back for air and resting her forehead against Santana's, Brittany whispered with her eyes closed, "We are a family now, San."_

"_We've always been a family, Britts," Santana countered softly, her eyes closed as well._

"_I know but… the three of us? We are always going to be a family," the blonde's words came full of meaning and sincerity as she opened up her eyes to take in her wife's, who opened up her own seconds after the dancer had done._

_They smiled sweetly at each other and they rarely felt more at sync than at that very moment, standing in the middle of a candle-lit kitchen._

"_Yes, we are," Santana replied in that sweet tone that always managed to reduce Brittany to mush, and then the blonde leaned further to kiss her wife once again. Merely because she wanted and could. The dancer felt Santana's hand on her still flat stomach and it made her smile into the kiss._

_They were incandescently happy and right there in that exact moment, in that exact room, both women had everything they could possibly ever want or need: the three of them together. A family._

* * *

><p><strong>That's it for now. The cracks are becoming more noticeable, huh? By the way, I still have lots of PMs to answer. I replied to lots but still have a long way to go. I will get to all of them eventually. Rest assured. Work is still crazy; so, I can't promise another chapter next week but I'll try my best to deliver ASAP.<br>Share your thoughts: review :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Glee _nor its original characters (if I did it would probably be called _The Brittany and Santana Show_, and all the other characters would only be there to help advance their plot).

**A/N: **Well, this week has been quite shitty... but I do feel slightly better delivering the new chapter this week as promised. And an epic long one at that. Longer thus far, yet again. Plus it took first rank in my "favourite chapters" list. It turned out better in writing than in my head, and it usually is the other way around. So, hope everyone enjoys as well!

*** This one goes out to: **Tita**, I wanted to deliver the chapter on your birthday as you requested, but I failed. Sorry, I really did try. Either way, happy belated birthday and hope you dig the new addition! **lalala671**, welcome to this crazy ride and thanks for the kind words. And **pacific firebrand**, dude, you make me laugh! Hope you enjoy the fact that some of your wishes were granted. Well, I did not-so-subtly planted those seeds on several past chapters. It was only natural to see them grow now *lol* And rushing, really? I feel like I move everything so slow... Oh, well; I just don't want the story to turn redundant and repetitive. So, a time jump is necessary in my opinion every once in a while. As for Santana's music taste, yeah... as you'll see on this chapter as well, _everyone_ in this story will have to partake on _my _taste in music *lol* So, expect lots of indie songs (especially extremely depressing ones) and vintage/classic artists in the future. Although Santana does dig Stevie Nicks and The Zutons, which makes me think she has potential for greatness ;)

**Enjoy chapter 12, folks! Thanks for all the reviews and PMs, you rock :)**

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><p><strong>Mischances, Stances and Stolen Glances<br>**_||Chapter Twelve||_

Santana entered Charlie's that late afternoon and perched herself on a stool by the bar. The place wasn't crowded but it had a good amount of people inside. Blame the goddamned 'happy hour', Puck would say.

"You turned up early today," Puck greeted the brunette who wore a work appropriate dress underneath her white doctor's coat from behind the bar. Eyeing Santana's attire he added with his usual smirk in place, "Did you come so we can finally play doctor together?"

Rolling her eyes the brown-eyed woman replied sarcastically, "Are you always this gross? Actually, don't answer that… We both already know the answer." After a beat she added offhandedly, "I just got off work, really needed a drink and didn't think the blood stain on my left side would be appealing to passer-bys; hence the coat. We had a real squirter today. Why morons are allowed to handle sharp objects I really don't have any idea."

"Why didn't you just change into one of those scrubs?" Puck asked absentmindedly, serving a beer to some guy.

"They are so unflattering…" Santana whined, slightly swinging her stool from side to side.

"I think they're sexy," the bartender countered with a grin, receiving an instant scowl. But the brunette's mind couldn't help but think of a certain blonde who once upon a time shared the same opinion. She squashed the thought before it could germinate, though.

"You'd think a potato sack was sexy if a hot woman was wearing it," Santana replied with a tinge of misplaced annoyance as she came out of her own thoughts.

"Can't say I disagree." After a beat Puck came closer to the brown-eyed woman from behind the bar and asked, "So, what can I get you, sexy doc?"

"First, call me that again and you'll be missing some teeth," Santana quipped with a small smile, and then she added with less bite, "I'll be having an appletini, thanks." She grinned to gain a bit of his sympathy.

"How many times do I have –"

She cut him off, "Come on, Puck… Work was so boring today, I need this. You'll finally have the chance to crack open that book I _selflessly_ gave you after you helped with Zoey's room," the brunette said in a pleading – and yet not destitute of pride – tone.

"_Selflessly_… yeah, right," the barkeep quipped and went on to grab something behind the bar. "You mean _this_ book?" He threw the item on the bar, a book with a huge number of cocktail recipes.

"You haven't even taken it out of the plastic wrap?"

"Nope, and I'm not planning on it." And then he added in a halfheartedly huff, "You already got me to order those chardonnays and merlots, when will it be enough for you woman?"

"I'd say when you make me that appletini. Come on, let's not waste time. I still have to go home and change before walking Poppy with Zoey in a little while."

"Not happening, Santana. Just choose between your merlot and chardonnay."

"I'll stick with the appletini," she said resolutely and then to distract him the brunette added, "Speaking of Zoey, thanks for the present. Britt said there was one from you in the present pile. I didn't even see you drop by that day."

"I didn't. I bumped into Danes when I was buying it and I asked him to deliver for me," Puck said dismissively in a well rehearsed blasé tone.

"Well, either way, it was very uncharacteristically sweet of you," Santana quipped with a smug grin on her face.

"Wow, even when you're paying me a compliment you manage to insult me. How do you do that?" Puck quipped back, matching her grin as the brown-eyed woman simply shrugged in response.

"You should have dropped by," Santana added in earnest.

"Kids' birthdays aren't exactly my scene."

Santana nodded, understanding the bartender. Before Zoey got in the picture those scenes weren't exactly hers as well.

A few minutes later Santana was taking small sips of her well-fought-for appletini as Puck returned to her immediate location after serving a few more people on the other side of the bar.

"So, how are things with you and Riley?" Puck asked nonchalantly, unable to hide a smirk from his smug face.

"How did you –"

He cut her off, "Small –"

She cut him off with a warning, "Don't even dare to give me that small town bullshit."

"I was at the strip club that day you two were eye-fucking each other. And I saw it when later she gave you her number," the bartender offered offhandedly, wiping the bar's counter with a cloth. Receiving Santana's suspicious stare, he added with annoyance, "What? I'm a regular there. I frequent the place _a lot_."

"Why that doesn't surprise me?" Santana said in question whilst shaking her head and taking a sip of her green drink.

"So…" Puck trailed on with a smirk.

"It's none of your business, Puck," Santana replied with a bite in her tone and a scowl in her face.

"Come on, Santana… Give me a little something to work with here. Just the thought of the two of you together does _wonders_ to Puck Jr.," Puck stated with a dreamy look on his eyes as he stopped wiping the counter to daydream.

Shaking her head at the man for the umpteenth time that day, Santana mused, "And when I call you 'pig' to your face you still get outraged…"

Puck dismissed her comment and replied evenly, "Well, you did seem like a mess in the club's parking lot. Still can't control the weeping when the alcohol really kicks in, huh? Yeah, some things never change."

"I didn't weep in the parking lot," Santana countered with a bark and a glare, defending herself. The details of that night were still quite hazy, but Jimmy had filled her in... Not that Puck needed to know that.

"Yeah, right…"

"I drank too much and I don't recall any weeping."

"A likely story, Lopez... From where I was sitting they even could have run a story on the Lima's Gazette about your meltdown. It sure beats the rummage sale article they printed on the first page that day. I can even picture the headline: 'Meltdown In The Strip Club's Parking Lot'," the bartender teased the brunette with a smug grin on his face.

"Well… screw you," the brown-eyed woman shot back sardonically, not having any more points to that argument.

Puck laughed out loud and said, "Good thing your boyfriend was there to drag your ass home."

"Jimmy's not my boyfriend. He's my best guy friend."

"Whatever," Puck dismissed with a tinge of jealousy but managing to hide it behind his blasé tone. "So, you and Riley?" He added with a suggestive tone, raising both eyebrows.

"I'm not going to share intimate details of my life with you, Puck," she stated lightheartedly, finishing one of the last two gulps of her drink. "We're not friends, you know?" She finished, but her bitchy face was far from in place.

"The feeling is entirely mutual my non-friend," Puck replied in the same tone as Santana as the brunette downed the last of the drink.

"Good, glad we're in agreement," Santana said whilst standing up, grabbing her bag that sat on the next stool in the process.

"Oh, I'll bring you that movie you wanted to borrow next time I swing around," the brown-eyed doctor added as an afterthought as she grabbed some money from her bag and dropped it on the bar.

"Cool," Puck replied absentmindedly before Santana turned around and left Charlie's.

Not friends. Not friends _at all_.

* * *

><p>Santana walked over to Brittany's house with Poppy strolling calmly in front of her, securely tied up by a red leash. As she approached the blonde's yellow abode Santana spotted Zoey outside by the front gate, looking from side to side probably trying to see her coming. Jenna was also outside, washing her Nissan Versa on the small driveway while Brittany watched. Santana felt like gagging at the domestic sight in front of her. They <em>always<em> made her want to gag. Her jealous thoughts were interrupted, though, when Zoey saw her and came running in her direction.

"Mama!" Zoey exclaimed, knelling down instantly to pat Poppy who was bigger by then and very enthusiastic towards the girl. "Pops!" She added with adoration while the dog wagged her tail.

"Hey, baby," Santana replied with love and a smile, handing her daughter the leash but the kid didn't take hold of it.

"Can you hold it so I can ride in my bike beside you?" Zoey asked, looking up at her with those big blue eyes that were impossible to say 'no' to. Santana had given her a pink bike for her birthday, which the little girl loved. She still needed training wheels but the brunette woman promised to teach her to ride without them after the kid got used to riding better.

"Sure," Santana replied promptly with a smile, and the kid's face lit up as she grinned broadly. The brown-eyed woman couldn't help but kiss the top of her daughter's head, which was adorned with a headband.

"I'll go get it," the little girl informed and dashed towards the house.

Brittany, who had been watching the whole scene play out from afar with untamed satisfaction, waved at Santana with a smile on her face as their eyes met for the first time. The brunette raised her head a bit in silent acknowledgement and walked over towards the white picket fence with Poppy. The dancer couldn't help but notice that Santana wore an orange cashmere sweater from _their time together_. Lately she had only been wearing new articles of clothing and Brittany was sort of thankful for the change because being hit with memories of them together was both amazing and painful. But the former totally made up for the latter. And so the blonde let herself be washed over with thoughts of hugs and cuddles and the feel of the soft orange fabric against her cheek. When Santana approached she shoved them to the backburner.

"Hey, San!" Brittany greeted cheerfully in a proper way as she walked closer to the fence herself.

"Hi," Santana replied less enthusiastically as the only thing separating them was the white fence.

Jenna looked sideways and raised her head to acknowledge Santana, who did the same in return. Every day it was harder for them to tolerate each other.

Feeling the tension Brittany stated matter-of-factly, "She's getting bigger," and then she looked down at Poppy with the same adoration as Zoey. She would pat her, or hug her, or cuddle her, but the fence wouldn't allow her. _Mommy_ _and_ daughter did share a strong love for all animals, and it made Santana smile a bit wider.

"Tell me about it…" Santana trailed on, looking down at the dog and then back at the dancer. "The little pain in the ass already destroyed three of my favourite pairs of shoes, and she has refined taste the little bitch. She saw a pair of flats beside my Manolos in the closet. Guess which ones she tore apart?" The brown-eyed woman added with exasperation and Brittany only had a chance to giggle before Zoey came back pushing the pink bike.

"Put on your helmet, sweetie," Brittany said in her motherly tone, looking to her side at their daughter who did what she was told.

"I think she needs a coat, too, Britts. It's getting chilly outside," Santana stated with concern, considering the time of the year while looking at the blue-eyed woman. Winter was just around the corner.

"Ok, I'll go grab one real quick."

They fell in silence. Jenna washing her car with an un-friendly look on her face, and Santana watching Zoey play with Poppy absentmindedly. Both women not really bothering to come up with conversation topics.

Brittany came back in a flash with a red coat in her hands. She handed it to Santana over the fence with a smile. The brunette proceeded to help their daughter get into the piece of clothing with enough gentleness to melt any bystander's heart, let alone Brittany's soft one. The blonde watched the scene with a broader smile on her face and Jenna subtly watched her watching them.

"Nice and cozy," Santana said with a grin whilst buttoning her kid up before kissing Zoey's pink cheek with unabashed love.

After getting settled on the bike with Santana's help, Zoey said while looking to her side "Bye, Mommy! Bye, Aunt Jenna!"

"Bye, munchkin," Brittany replied while watching the two objects of her affection – well, three; she already loved Poppy – move along down the sidewalk.

"Bye, Zoey," Jenna replied at the same time as Brittany.

They fell in comfortable silence.

Out of the blue Jenna said without stopping the task of wiping the car dry, "Brittany?"

"Hmm," the dancer hummed in acknowledgement, present in body but absent in mind.

Jenna stopped with drying the car with a cloth to look sideways at the taller blonde, and asked softly, "Do you want to get back with Santana?"

That did the trick to snap the blue-eyed woman out of her trance. "What?" She asked with surprise, turning on her heels to face her wife completely. "Where did that come from?"

"I'm not stupid, you know, _nor_ blind," the green-eyed woman stated calmly, without raising her tone of voice. It wasn't the premise of any accusations. "I can see the looks and how you are when the two of you spend time together…" The petite blonde sort of trailed on, dropping the cloth to the ground. It was past time to air this all out.

"Jenna…" Brittany trailed on as well with a loaded tone, not making any attempts to come closer to her wife. This topic was touchy enough as it was. "I'm with _you_, aren't I? Santana is my best friend and Zoey's mother. Of course we'll spend time together… I feel we had this conversation before; more times than one, and –" the dancer added with misplaced exasperation. She consciously knew that she was somehow evading, but she could not do anything to stop herself.

Jenna cut her off, not abruptly just eagerly and kind of desperately, "_Yeah_, we've had. But nothing got really settled. I still… I _still_ feel all these things that I honestly don't enjoy one bit feeling, and I _still_ don't know exactly where we stand or who we are anymore in the midst of all of this." She took a few steps towards the blue-eyed woman.

Brittany wasn't following her and that last part didn't fall well in her ears. It sounded ominous, somehow. "What is that supposed to mean?" She asked defensively but softly, crossing her arms across her chest.

Jenna hung her head against her chest with mild frustration. She loved Brittany, but sometimes her wife could be so dense. She needed to cut to the chase. "It means that I'm feeling insecure, Brittany," she said dejectedly.

"You're feeling _jealous_," Brittany corrected softly, feeling for her wife. Empathy was a funny thing, not that the taller blonde would ever associate it.

"That, too," Jenna conceded gently, locking her green eyes on sympathetic blue ones.

The blue-eyed woman cupped her wife's cheek. "You shouldn't. Like I said, I'm with you," she reiterated her previous remark for there was nothing else she could say. She wanted to make Jenna feel better, but turned out it was hard convincing people when you needed convincing yourself. "I wouldn't do anything that wasn't right, you know that," Brittany added softly, and by that time she felt like she was on a script.

Leaning into the dancer's touch with neediness, Jenna replied just as softly, "I know, honey. I know... But I can't help but feel that maybe you're trying to push _me_ into doing something _you_ want to do but can't."

The green-eyed woman saw confusion in her wife's face. Even though Brittany understood quite well what the smaller blonde meant. So, Jenna clarified, "I want you to know that I'm all in here. I won't go anywhere. If, perhaps, uh…" this was so hard to say, to put it out there out loud when she had been doing her best to keep it down, "…you want out, I'm sorry, but you'll have to come up with the courage to dump me yourself, 'cause –"

"I won't," Brittany stopped her with reassurance, before this all got to be too much and too out of control. _Perhaps, too truthful… or dishonest? Depending on where you were sitting._ At that moment Brittany was glad that Jenna wasn't Santana. That she couldn't quite read her like an open book, that she didn't feel the need to keep drilling until she stroke oil, otherwise… But was she really? Was she really glad? No, those thoughts had to be chased away from her mind. The comparisons needed to _stop_. When she and Jenna first got together comparisons were _all_ she could think about. It took _a lot_ of time and energy to drown them out. She couldn't go back to that now. Brittany knew she wouldn't be strong enough if she did. And so, she leaned forward and pressed her lips softly against Jenna's.

Jenna felt more at ease as she moved her lips against the dancer's, deepening the kiss. Her wife had dodged some questions and something she couldn't pin-point about this whole situation still bothered her, but right at that moment she felt some reassurance and for the time being it was enough for her.

At the same time that Jenna and Brittany were having their conversation, Santana and Zoey were sharing their own.

"So, how was school today?" Santana asked offhandedly, walking Poppy whilst looking at Zoey who rode her pink bike by her side.

"Boring," Zoey replied promptly, not knowing if she looked ahead at where she was going or at Poppy, whom she was beguiled by.

Santana laughed out loud at her daughter and they fell in a comfortable silence while enjoying the walk/ride around the block. After a while, out of the blue, Zoey broke the silence.

"Mama, are you and Mommy 'divoiced'?" The little girl asked with innocence without stopping the ride.

"What?" Santana asked in confusion, not sure about what her daughter meant.

"Russ said yesterday in school that his mom and dad are 'divoiced' because they don't live in the same house anymore and he 'have' two bedrooms," the blue-eyed girl stated with a pensive tone, looking sideways at the brunette woman. "You and Mommy don't live together and I have two bedrooms now," she concluded flatly, partially pleased by her own logical deduction.

_Fuck_, Santana thought. _Of course she had to come to me with this loaded question_. She knew honesty was the way to go. "Yes, baby. We are _divorced_," Santana said softly, locking eyes with her child to convey her sympathy. Both had come to a halt by then.

Zoey processed the information and replied sadly, holding her Mama's searching gaze, "But you _can't_ be."

It broke Santana's heart to see her daughter sad. This certainly wasn't supposed to go down like this.

"We are, Z," the brown-eyed woman confirmed the hard truth. There was no point lying to the kid. "Why we can't be, sweetie?" She added with curiosity. Things weren't adding up in her head for the conversation to take this turn.

"Russ said that 'divoiced' parents don't love each other. And I said that my mommies weren't 'divoiced' then, because they _did_ love each other," Zoey said in a bit of a huff. The boy really did push her wrong buttons. "You love Mommy, don't you?" She added more calmly, almost pleadingly as she held Santana's stare with so much vulnerability and strength that made the doctor's heart clench.

_Fuck, shit, fuck_; Santana thought. Her kid was really putting her on the spot. This conversation was taking even worse turns than she had firstly expected. However, she couldn't leave her little girl hanging, and she couldn't lie; but she also couldn't spill the whole harsh truth.

Clearing her throat and taking some time to formulate the better answer, Santana said barely above a whisper, feeling like she might drown in her kid's piercing stare anytime, "Yes. I do, Zoey." It wasn't a lie. It was the absolute truth, and right then she knew she had to add something to contain the impact of those heavy, naked words. It was who she was… it was in Santana's nature to be guarded and secure about those sorts of things: feelings. She always had to cover every angle. "I'll _always_ love her because she gave me _you_," she added resolutely with a wide smile.

Zoey matched it instantly, happy that she was right and not _Russ_. "Does she love you, too?" The blue-eyed girl asked hopefully, still not done with the many questions that have been gradually forming in her mind throughout this whole time.

"Well, that is something you might want to ask her… but I suppose she does, too," Santana replied honestly, and the brunette herself couldn't help but be washed over with a desperate, silent and – on her adult end – slightly empty hope. And then she felt the need to add, "For the same reason I love her. I gave her you as well," her smile broadened and she finished with, "It's all about _you_, mi hija. We love you very much! Don't doubt that any second."

The little girl broadened her smile as well and said with self-righteousness, "I told _stupid_ Russ about the way you looked at each other," Santana couldn't help but blush a bit at her kid's perceptiveness and remark. Were they… was _she_ being that obvious? "And how happy we are when we're together, but he wouldn't believe me," Zoey added with a small pout. "That's why I had to kick his shin," Santana's eyes widened and the kid realized she had spilled the beans in the heat of the moment. She wasn't used to hiding things… yet. Not at that age anyhow. Seeing the look on her Mama's face she added rapidly in her defense, "_He_ shoved me first. Please don't tell Mommy."

"I'm not mad, Zoey," Santana reassured Zoey with a smile. "If some kid pushes you first you have every right to push – or kick – back. It's only fair," she added with her trademark bitchy tone. "I'm sure your Mommy won't mind either."

"But she always says I have to be the stronger person," Zoey whined a bit, feeling like she let Brittany down or something.

"The _bigger_ person," the brown-eyed woman corrected softly. "And, yeah, of course she would say that... She had _me_ to do her dirty work when we were little," Santana added with a scoff, thinking back to those playground days when she would drop anyone who dared to mess with the little blonde. "But, trust me, if someone messes with you it's ok to fight back. What isn't ok is to start fights yourself. That's not cool, Z," the doctor finished, trying to be a good, responsible parent.

Zoey nodded and they resumed their walk/ride. Poppy was already getting restless. But even after all those questions, Zoey still had queries unanswered.

So, without wavering any longer, the little kid went straight to the heart of the matter after they moved a mere couple of feet ahead, "Mama?"

_Fuck, shit, fuck, crap, double crap_; Santana thought. Why did their kid have to be so damn inquisitive and perceptive? Why couldn't she grill Brittany instead of her? To hell with Brittany S. Pierce's damn luck!

"Yeah?" The brunette woman replied calmly and subtly sighed, hoping to God her daughter wouldn't dig up that conversation again.

"If you love Mommy," as soon as Zoey started Santana's hope came crashing down, "and Mommy loves you… then why Aunt Jenna is Mommy's wife and not you? Why can't we live together?" Zoey asked with untamed interest, peddling her bike slowly. She had been maturing these questions for a long time now, and was really eager to finally let them all out and receive some answers. She really liked Aunt Jenna, but no matter how she would spin it, the green-eyed blonde wasn't one of her mothers. The little girl didn't know exactly why, but the thought of having her two mommies together made her heart fill with uncontrollable joy. They were her family.

Santana gulped hard and tightened her hold on Poppy's leash until her tanned knuckles turned uncharacteristically white. "Well, baby, do you remember when I was sick and sleeping in the hospital for a really long time?" The brown-eyed woman asked softly, trying to ease her kid into the sad tale.

Zoey nodded her confirmation, watching her Mama with undivided attention. Not even _Poppy_ could steal the spotlight at those pivotal instants.

"Yeah, so the doctors didn't think I was going to wake up again and your Mommy, of course, felt really sad after she heard that. Years later she met someone else and she didn't want to be so sad and alone anymore, or make _you_ feel sad with her," she was becoming emotional by that point, telling the story from Brittany's point of view made her heart somehow ache for the dancer, "So, she got married again to try to be happy and not lonely once more," Santana concluded, trying to sound chipper for Zoey's sakes.

Zoey seemed to be taking everything in and processing all the information again. They had stopped walking/riding once more. "But what about now that you're awake?" The kid asked with utter innocence.

Part of Santana wanted to say a big 'thank you' to her daughter for thinking like her, even though her train of thought was equivalent to one of a four-year old. But the other part didn't know exactly what to reply. She _still_ didn't fully understand it herself. Right at that crucial moment Santana realized how easy it would be to make Brittany – and even Jenna herself – the flagitious characters in this story to Zoey… but she would _never_ be able to do so. To tarnish the image of Zoey's other mother in her little head. To create conflict and transform their lives in a living hell with that 'she said, she said' business. In her mind she couldn't believe, she didn't know how some divorced parents could put their children through such an ugly thing. And, yet again, she _did_ know: love clearly wasn't there anymore… unlike her case.

So, Santana went with what Brittany had told her herself, and something she actually could grasp because of who her ex-wife was, "Well, _now_ everything is different, honey. Your Mommy isn't free anymore. She has another wife and it wouldn't be right to just dismiss that." Those words tasted extremely sour coming from her own mouth but, in this case, it was the _right_ thing to do and say.

"What about you?" Zoey asked without missing a beat, furrowing her delicate little brows with adorable confusion.

"What about me?" Santana replied with confusion herself.

"I don't want _you_ to feel sad and lonely by yourself," the little girl stated with concern like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

The brown-eyed doctor's heart was yet again filled with extreme love for her daughter. This innocent, sweet, delicate, good-natured angel who never ceased to amazed her Mama.

Opening up the widest, sweetest of grins, Santana tried her hardest to prevent tears from welling up in her eyes and said to Zoey, "You don't have to worry about me, cariño…" The woman ran a hand through the portion of Zoey's long hair that transcended the pink and white helmet. "I have my number one girl: _you_. And that makes me the happiest person on Earth," she added with emotion laced in her tone of voice. It was the truth. It might as well be a partial one, but it didn't feel like a lie at all to Santana as the words left her lips.

Zoey seemed to be at least satisfied by the answer because she flashed the brunette woman a sweet smile as they began riding/walking yet again.

Santana undid the fists she had no idea her hands were forming alongside her body throughout her conversation with her daughter, and they finally made it around the couple of blocks.

Later that night Brittany tucked Zoey in and proceeded to pick up some toys that her daughter had left across the floor.

"Do you think that Mama is pretty?" Came Zoey's question from out of the blue.

Brittany, who was bending over to pick the last toy, continued with the pick-up but turned around in surprise with arms full of toys to face the little girl who lied in bed. _Where did that come from?_ The blonde thought to herself.

Placing the toys in a colourful toy-trunk, the dancer replied honestly, "Yes, I do." It was the pure truth and there was no reason to lie to her kid. And then, inching closer to Zoey's bed and taking a seat on her bedside, Brittany added with a smile on her face, "She's the most gorgeous woman I've _ever_ met."

Zoey seemed to be studying her and the blonde didn't know why but her daughter's searching gaze was sort of disconcerting.

"Why do you ask, sweetie?" Brittany asked softly, bringing the kid's covers closer to her little chin.

Zoey merely shrugged and flashed her Mommy a sweet – and somewhat disturbingly knowing to the blue-eyed woman – smile.

After a moment of silent staring, Zoey stated matter-of-factly with sheer innocence, "She said she'll _always_ love you, and you'll _always_ love her." She didn't include Santana's _addendum_ to her phrase because that was all that the little girl had heard when her Mama had spoken earlier.

Brittany was taken aback, but mostly she felt overwhelmed by this sense of happiness and something else. Something extremely pleasant that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Zoey unceremoniously turned a bit and closed her eyes. Happy with this interaction… but still not completely satisfied with everything.

The blonde broadened her smile and took a few more seconds to bask on the feelings that washed over her whilst looking adoringly at their daughter. After a while she stood up and went towards the door.

Before she could reach it, Zoey asked in a low tone without opening her eyes, "Is it true?"

Brittany replied without missing a beat, morphing her smile into a bittersweet one, "Absolutely." After a beat she added softly, "Sweet dreams, baby." And then she turned the light off and left the night-light on.

* * *

><p>Days later Brittany and Jenna were in line for snacks at the movie theater.<p>

"And then I saw him stuffing a few cell phones into his bag before he left his shift," Jenna informed Brittany as a couple of teenagers in front of them ordered.

"What did you do?" Brittany asked offhandedly, looking sideways at her wife.

"Well, I had to report him. He left me no other choice."

"Maybe you could have talked to him first."

"It's not the first time that he's done this, Brittany," the green-eyed woman replied as it was their turn to order. Changing the subject the shorter blonde asked the dancer, "Sweet or salt?"

"Either," Brittany answered casually without missing a beat, looking around at nothing in particular.

"One large popcorn and two sodas, please," Jenna said to the young teen boy behind the snacks counter.

The two women picked up their treats and headed inside the theater, which was already quite full of people. They proceeded to grab a couple of seats on the right side of the two sets of chairs near the back of the room. Yes, the Lima Theater was rather small. As they were adjusting themselves and getting comfortable Brittany heard a sound she was quite familiar with. A sound that she could recognize anywhere. A sound that felt like music to her ears and if she had to listen to it every day she would die a happy woman: Santana's laughter. That contagious, sexy, husky, deep throaty sound that always had managed to bring a smile to Brittany's own lips. She instantly started to look around to find the source of said sound and spotted the well-known cascade of dark, luscious hair as the woman in question sat on the left side of the two sets of chairs near the middle of the room. The blonde unconsciously smiled, but it was quickly dropped when she also spotted a head full of flawless red hair next to Santana's. _Riley_, she bitterly thought.

"Hey, I'll go pee before the movie starts. You know how tiny my bladder is," Jenna said to the blue-eyed woman with a tender smile on her lips as she rose to her feet.

Brittany nodded absentmindedly because her full attention was _otherwise_ engaged.

"Wanna come with?" The petite blonde added as she rose to her feet and looked down at her wife.

"Nah, I'll stay and watch our stuff," Brittany said while looking up, finally landing her eyes and full attention on Jenna.

"Ok, be right back," Jenna replied, turning around and walking away.

Brittany took the new-found liberty to watch Santana and Riley with untamed curiosity. It had pained her to hear her ex laughing with another woman. But now the blonde was having more time to dwell, and it was also further paining the dancer the fact that Santana was in a _date_ with _someone else_… that she would probably give Riley a goodnight kiss after… or worse. God, the mere thought made her nauseous! Should she go say hi? _No, that would be awkward and extremely painful_; she thought. But would it be weird to just sit there without saying anything? Before she could muse further whilst staring at the back of the women's heads, Santana got up and made her way to the center aisle. As the brunette walked up said aisle she spotted Brittany on the back of the theater, who had swiftly averted her gaze to not seem like a weirdo stalker or something.

Walking towards the dancer with a surprised, peculiar smile on her face, Santana quickly reached Brittany's seat. "Ok, are you stalking me now or something?" Santana asked with a newly-formed amused smile, looking down at the blonde.

Brittany rolled her eyes and replied evenly, looking at the brunette in the eye, "Don't you ever get tired of flattering yourself?"

"Not really," Santana answered with confidence and without missing a beat as she flashed Brittany one of her cocky smirks. Looking down at a purse on top of the seat next to the dancer's Santana added with a sharp bite, "So, where's Betty White?" Shaking her head vigorously she amended, "No, actually I take that back. Betty is way too awesome. Where's Zsa Zsa Gabor?"

It was Brittany's turn to shake her head, and then she replied dismissively not taking the bait, "She went to the bathroom."

"Yeah, old age really takes its toll on one's bladder," the brown-eyed woman quipped in a mock serious tone as she wore a tight-lipped smile and nodded her head repeatedly for emphasis.

Even though Brittany felt like smiling, she wouldn't take this lying down. So, she asked with an edge on her tone and a smirk of her own, "And how's Anne of Green Gables?" The blonde pointed towards Riley with her head. Of course she was exaggerating; the ginger was twenty-five years old already.

"Excellent, thanks for asking," Santana replied evenly, unwillingly matching Brittany's smile. "So, is Zoey with you?" She asked, changing the subject with ease.

"Allison," was all that Brittany needed to say.

"Aww, using Ally's services to have a date night... How _nice_," Santana said with plenty of sarcasm to go around as she locked brown eyes on blue ones.

Brittany held the brunette's stare and replied without backing down while dismissing Santana's remark, "You and _Riley_…" both could hear the disdain in her tone, "First date?"

"Second actually," came the brown-eyed woman's quick response.

"Aww, movie and dinner... How _nice_," Brittany said in the same fashion as Santana did seconds ago. The tension was growing exponentially as they relentlessly held each other's stare, not backing down.

"Movie and _drinks_," Santana corrected absentmindedly. "Let's just say I owe a certain barkeep a favour, and it works out for me as well since drinks it's faster than a whole meal. What if she is a bore or something? Gotta protect yourself." It was a partial truth. Their first date – only drinks at Charlie's – went quite well. That is why it was bumped to drinks _and_ a movie.

"You're a piece of work Santana Pi… _Lopez_," Brittany said with a glitch and blushed slightly at her Freudian slip. She was just so used to the character that was once her wife…

"_Anyways_, speaking of dates I should go. Don't wanna leave mine waiting for too long. Still gotta buy us another soda. You know, too many things to carry at once," Santana said unceremoniously.

"What? You two don't share? We always did," the blue-eyed woman deadpanned unwillingly bitterly, fidgeting nervously with the armrest of her seat.

Looking down at two sodas at their respective cup holders – and also noticing the presence of a single popcorn bucket on Brittany's lap – Santana shot back promptly in the same tone as the blonde, "Well, you don't seem to share anymore either." After an uncomfortable beat she added, "I really have to go now." But the brunette noticed that Brittany's eyes weren't exactly on hers anymore.

"Eyes up here, Britts," Santana finished with an amused tone, gesturing from her chest to her eyes.

_Damn_, Brittany thought. She had been caught leering. _But what was Santana expecting wearing that red top with major cleavage?_ It tore the dancer apart the fact that the brunette had obviously put effort into this date. Brittany had also noticed throughout their conversation that Santana had taken the time to do her hair perfectly; it was all sexy and freshly, flawlessly blown-dried straight. Her nails were immaculately done and her outfit would make any jaw drop. Without mentioning her fuck-me, ridiculously hot stilettos… _Yes_, it stung.

Looking up with a slight blush, Brittany – not one to have any filter – replied with bite, "Well, what do you expect wearing something like that, Santana?" And she pointed at the red top which she didn't recognize for effect.

_Uuu, full name… She must be riled up_; Santana thought with partial amusement and partial anger. _Who was Brittany to dictate her attire?_ Looking beneath her fierce cropped jacket at the debated item, Santana smirked and shot back smugly, "I expect _just_ that. Who said I was complaining?"

Brittany bit her bottom lip. Santana could be so unnerving.

Before she could say anything though, the brunette added, "See you around, B." And she turned around smoothly and walked away. Leaving Brittany to dwell on her misery and glare at the back of Riley's head.

A little over a minute later Santana showed up in front of Brittany again. The blonde looked up at brown eyes with confusion splashed across her blue ones.

"She hasn't figured out yet, has she?" Santana asked softly, locking eyes with the dancer as she cocked her head slightly. Before Brittany could enquire further, the brunette tossed the blonde a box of milk duds and added, "Between salt and sweet… When you say 'whatever' or 'either one'… you _actually_ mean both."

Catching the yellow box on reflex, Brittany was taken aback by the gesture. Santana really did know her well. _Too_ well. And right then the comparisons started to show their ugly heads again. It was getting worse within each day, within each hour, and minute and second… Looking up adoringly at Santana and wearing one of her sweetest smiles, the dancer held that chocolate stare. And she felt the moment. _Both_ felt it.

Once again, before Brittany could say a word, Santana turned around with her soda in hand and sauntered towards her date. Before she reached the aisle, though; the brown-eyed woman stated seriously from over her shoulder, without turning around, "You should learn how to say what you really want, Brittany." And she meant it in more ways than one. The message was not at all lost on Brittany as she watched Santana join Riley with a heavy heart. Santana had wanted to add a '_Before it's too late_', but refrained from doing so for some reason.

Moments later Jenna returned from the bathroom, forcing Brittany to stop her blatantly staring at Santana and Riley. The lights had been turned off and the trailers had started showing on the silver screen.

"Jesus, the line for the bathroom was ridiculously long. I almost went to the men's room. There were only, like, _three_ guys standing there," Jenna mused barely above a whisper, taking her seat next to her wife.

Brittany offered her a half-smile before taking a sip of her soda and returning her eyes to the screen.

"I think I saw Santana on the snacks line a few minutes ago," the green-eyed woman added casually.

"Yeah, I talked to her," Brittany said also barely above a whisper and Jenna felt slightly alarmed, and then the dancer added dejectedly after a beat, "She's on a date with _Riley_." And she gestured with her head towards the two women in question.

Jenna couldn't help the smile that took over her features as she saw the brunette and redhead sitting together on the other side of the theater. That was definitely good news to her.

"That's nice. Isn't it?"

Brittany nodded half-heartedly without taking her eyes from the big screen, and said in a strangled tone to avoid the topic, "The movie is starting."

The green-eyed blonde didn't notice the tone. She was too happy with this new piece of information. So, she grabbed Brittany's hand on the armrest and gladly dove into the flick in front of her… unaware of her wife's inner struggle.

Throughout the movie Brittany was definitely more engaged in _The Santana & Riley Picture Show_ than on the flick displayed on the big screen. So, it came as a shock to the dancer when she watched the two women ditching the movie with smiles plastered across their faces. And it nearly shattered her heart to watch in the dark as Riley's pale hand made its way to Santana's tanned one to guide the brunette through the chairs and aisle. _What would they do next? Where were they going? Why were they rudely walking out of the theater in the middle of the movie? Laughing nonetheless... How much more of this would she be able to handle?_

Staring at the milk duds box on her lap after Santana and Riley had left the theater, Brittany rarely felt more lost than at that very moment in time.

* * *

><p>On a Saturday morning Brittany crossed through the hospital's automatic double doors with a panicked look on her face as she practically dragged Zoey by the hand behind her. The dancer strode rapidly with large steps, making it impossible for her daughter to properly accompany her. Brittany quickly made her way towards the nurses' station; her hair was disheveled, her eyes were wide and she had her coat on backwards as little snowflakes melted on top of it. Ohio winter was finally upon them, after all. The nurse behind the station was talking to a woman who was accompanied by her eight year-old son who wore a blue cast on his arm.<p>

"Excuse me? Hello?" Brittany said frantically, interrupting their talk as Zoey stood by her side. "I got a call –" the blonde added but was cut by the nurse.

"One minute, ma'am… I'll be with you in a sec," the elderly nurse in pink scrubs replied, looking sideways at the blonde for a minute before turning her attention back to the other woman and her son.

"No!" Brittany stated a bit too loudly, causing the nurse to stare back at her with her eyes a bit wide. "_Listen_, I don't have a sec, ok? I got a call saying that my wife, uh… no… my ex-wife was admitted here, but they wouldn't give me any details on the phone. Is she ok? Is she conscious?" The dancer mumbled rapidly, talking profusely with her hands and sounding like a deranged woman. "Oh, my God, please tell me it's not her brain again," she finished alarmed, nearly breaking into tears.

"I'll be right with you –" the nurse tried to say but Brittany interjected again.

"Didn't you listen?" The blue-eyed woman said even louder, almost pleading as Zoey looked up at her Mommy with wide eyes. She had never seen the woman raise her voice before. "This is important! She could be…" Brittany trailed off. "_Please_," she finished, looking the nurse in the eye and sounding desperate.

"Is that your mom?" The raven haired boy asked Zoey in a low tone as they stood next to each other.

Zoey merely nodded with a tight-lipped smile, feeling a bit embarrassed by her Mommy's strange behavior.

The boy's mother had tacitly let the nurse look into Brittany's "situation" given the odd state of the blonde. So, the nurse was on her way to take a seat on the computer to try to work things out.

"Her name is Santana. Santana Pi… Santana Lopez," Brittany blurted out erroneously in the same desperate tone, unconsciously holding Zoey's hand extra tightly.

The nurse stopped before she had reached the computer, "Dr. Lopez?" She asked, looking at Brittany's blue eyes.

"Yes!" Brittany replied eagerly, feeling she was finally getting somewhere.

"Well, she came in not long ago and they took her to curtain 3…" the nurse in pink scrubs ceremoniously started to say, but before she could finish Brittany was already dragging Zoey further into the hospital to find Santana.

"Ma'am, you can't go in there before…" the nurse said watching Brittany take long strides towards another double door. "Ma'am…" her words were muffled as the dancer crossed the doors and they swung closed.

Brittany went ahead opening every blue curtain that passed her and Zoey by as she dragged the little girl through the hospital. If she was looking like a mad woman before now she had turned into someone completely certifiable. She didn't even hear the protests some patients made after having their privacy invaded by an apparent lunatic blonde woman.

Before Brittany could pull the sixth curtain though; a different, younger nurse in pink scrubs walked from behind it and the dancer was able to finally spot Santana sitting on a gurney. And the blue-eyed woman could suddenly breathe again.

"Doctor Edwards, _not_ Weber, Garcia," Santana's voice was heard as she addressed the departing nurse, Laura Garcia. She hadn't seen Brittany yet because Laura was blocking her line of vision.

As Laura walked away Santana didn't even have the chance to properly register Brittany's presence before the blue-eyed woman wrapped the brunette doctor in a bone-crushing hug whilst sighing heavily.

"Brittany, what are you doing here?" Santana barely managed to ask as the dancer nearly cut the brunette's air supply with the hug.

For long seconds Brittany didn't even bother to answer. She was simply too busy cherishing the feel of an awaken Santana. Relief coursed through her veins like wild fire spreading through a dry forest. Santana could spot Zoey from above Brittany's shoulder and both shared a greeting smile.

The elderly nurse who was behind the nurses' station a few moments ago finally was able to catch up with Brittany. "Ma'am, I said you couldn't come here without –" The nurse began but Santana cut her off still in the middle of Brittany's tight grip on her neck.

"It's fine, Simpson. She's with me," Santana interjected in defeat and the baffled older woman started to walk back towards the station.

Pulling back after a while, Brittany locked crystal blue eyes on dark chocolate ones with intensity. Santana wasn't sure what was all of that about and before she could ask again she felt Brittany punching her lightly, but _not_ so lightly, on the arm.

"Ouch! What the hell, Britt?" Santana said, wincing as she touched her hit upper arm. Not cleaning up her language in front of Zoey due to pain.

"That's for scaring the life out of me," Brittany said seriously, holding the brunette's confused and pissed-off gaze.

Zoey walked closer to her mommies and proceeded to take a seat beside Santana on the gurney. Brittany helped her up absentmindedly.

Santana took a real gander at Brittany for the first time and saying that her appearance was a mess was an understatement. "What's up with all…" the brunette motioned towards Brittany's whole disheveled state as the blonde hoisted Zoey onto the gurney, "…this?" She amended with furrowed eyebrows. "Is your coat on backwards?" Santana finished with disbelief in her tone as she stared at the dancer without reservations.

Brittany looked down on herself and noticed that it was in fact backwards. Taking it off and fixing it, she replied in a bit of a huff, "Well, sorry but I left home in a hurry." And she proceeded to run a hand through her hair to fix it, too. She didn't even bother to brush it before leaving home.

They fell in comfortable silence as Santana watched Brittany straighten her appearance a bit more.

"What happened?" The blonde added in a more serene way after she was quickly done.

Santana replied dismissively, "It was nothing really. Zoey found my old playhouse in the cellar – I didn't even know my parents had kept the thing for so long – and I promised her…" she looked sideways at her smiling daughter, "…I would put it together. So, this morning I started on it, I mean, how hard could it be, right? The damn manual said the glass from the little window would slide right in, but well, it _didn't_. It got stuck and I tried to use force… long story short: this gash happened," the brunette finished, holding up her arm to expose a nasty gash on the inside of her forearm.

Brittany winced while looking closely at the gash. "It looks _awful_. You should be more careful, San," the dancer stated softly.

"It looks worse than it is," Santana downplayed it, feeling the need to soothe the blue-eyed woman still. "Eight stitches and I'll be good as new. I'd do it myself. God knows I'd barely leave a scar," she gloated, "but I can't with one hand. I tried. _Anyways_, I asked for Edwards; he's decent enough. Not as awesome as me, but you know…" Santana trailed on, smiling for effect.

"Did you finish the playhouse?" Zoey asked her Mama, too enthused about that piece of information to worry about anything else.

"Almost done, bug. Next time you come around you can already play in it, though."

The kid beamed.

"How did you even know I was here?" Santana asked curiously, shifting her gaze towards the blonde.

"I'm your emergency contact," Brittany deadpanned, still not completely over the shock of the whole situation.

"Right…" The brunette trailed on with a pensive look on her face. "I'll change it later," she added casually and yet resolutely.

"_Why_?" Brittany asked quickly, suddenly being fully aware again. "Don't," was all she could add.

Santana looked around, trying to spot someone she could trust. This conversation was taking a turn and she thought it better for their daughter not to be around to presence it.

"Hey, Matthews!" The brown-eyed woman called out, spotting a young resident she was familiar with (i.e. someone she knew was quite scared of her; yeah right, like _all_ of them weren't). "Get over here," she added and the blond guy came rushing without second guessing.

"Yes, Doctor Lopez," Ted Matthews said meekly as he reached the three ladies and flashed them all an awkward smile.

"My daughter here would love some candy." Zoey's eyes lit up. "Why don't you be a doll and take her to the vending machines?" Santana said with faux sweetness. "She can have whatever she wants. I'll pay you back later," she finished with a peculiar smile.

"Sure," Matthews replied promptly, smiling at a smiling Zoey.

"After you can also take her to see the new fishes in the waiting area's tank," Santana said and the brown-eyed resident nodded as Zoey's smile broadened.

Brittany helped Zoey get down from the gurney with a curious look on her face. She knew Santana was up to something, especially considering she was clearing Zoey from the scene.

As the resident in blue scrubs took hold of the little girl's hand with gentleness, Santana added with a glare directed to him, "Don't forget, _Teddy_… Lima Heights Adjacent Pottery Barn rule: you break her, I'll break _you_, ok?" And she smiled that eerie smile again, which made Matthews gulp hard as he took Zoey towards their first destination with intensive care. He kept thinking he was too young to die.

After Santana and Brittany watched their daughter go, the brunette stated coolly, "I'll put Richard as my emergency contact."

In this brief amount of time she had been thinking of possibilities: Maggie had her hands full already with three kids, Danes was a single carefree man who didn't need (or want) the extra responsibility, her New York friends were too distant… So, Richard was the best choice. Besides, he already spent most of his time in the hospital already… making decisions such as these, and he didn't have kids of his own. Plus, she liked him. As for Brittany, well… She needed to finally start pushing the woman away. For real. Her arm's-length resolve should not be forgotten. She had relapses. She forgot at times. But Santana _knew_ the steps were necessary. Riley had been an excellent step in the right direction. She needed to keep taking them. No matter what.

"Santana…"

"Brittany, please, we've been through this. Just don't…"

"But what if you need me?" Brittany asked with her pout. She hated this. She hated to be pushed away by Santana. And she was starting to hate herself too. This wasn't good.

"I'll be just fine," Santana shot back without missing a beat, not enjoying the dancer's patronizing.

They fell in silence for few seconds. _Uncomfortable_ silence.

"I – I thought it was your brain again," Brittany said barely above a whisper as her heart clenched in her chest. Her eyes fell to the sterile hospital floor, unable to hold the brunette's stare. Every day that passed their situation was harder to handle.

Santana felt bad for Brittany. She couldn't help it… _still_. The blonde had looked so lost when she first spotted Santana on that gurney... "I'm sorry I scared you," she said softly and in earnest, trying to catch Brittany's fleeting gaze. After a few seconds she succeeded engaging those smoldering blue eyes. "It's –" Santana began to add but was interrupted by the arrival of Doctor Edwards, a raven-haired short man in his mid-forties.

"Lopez, I heard you got yourself cut," Edwards said playfully, approaching her gurney.

"So it seems…" Santana quipped in a blasé tone.

"Nice Garcia said she cleaned the wound already. I'll give you some anesthesia and then we can stitch that up nice and good," he stated with a smile and then looking sideways at Brittany the man added, "It's good you brought someone with you. You'll need a ride."

"Nonsense," Santana dismissed it quickly. "I drove myself here and I can drive myself back," she added with a mild scowl on her face.

"I'd like to see you do that with a numb arm," Edwards countered evenly.

"I'll take her," Brittany said a bit too gladly as she looked at Doctor Edwards.

"No, thank you. I'll call someone else," Santana said in a bit of a huff. Hasn't Brittany been listening to anything she said in the previous minutes?

"Who? _Who_ will you call?" The blue-eyed woman asked with frustration, placing Santana under her heavy stare.

Before Santana could answer, though, Doctor Edwards said as he felt the tension rising, "I'll go find a nurse to bring in a suture kit so we can start, ok?" And the man happily fled the awkward scene.

Santana's wheels were turning: Maggie was at her in-laws for lunch, Danes was working, so was Richard, Riley had gone to her dad's for the rapidly approaching Christmas holiday… That only left –

Before the thought finished in Santana's head, Brittany asked sort of unable to contain a bitter tone, "Will you call _Riley_?" One hand instinctively found solace on her own waist.

Santana answered casually, "No, she went to Alaska for Christmas." At the blonde's surprised face she added, "Her dad lives there." After a beat and a waiting glance from Brittany, the brunette finished, "I'll ask Puck." After _two_ drink dates with Riley at Charlie's, _he_ owed _her_.

"_Puck_?" Brittany asked with surprise. She looked a bit livid as well after Santana merely nodded her confirmation. "You're kidding right?"

"Not at all," Santana chimed in with her head held high in defiance.

"What? Are you two _friends_ now?" The dancer scornfully asked, crossing both arms across her chest. Puck was definitely a sore spot for the dancer.

"No, but turns out we _do_ have a couple of things in common."

"You and _Puck_? Things in common? I seriously doubt it."

"We do."

"Things such as…" Brittany prompted with defiance and petulance of her own, without mentioning disbelief.

"I don't know, Brittany. _Misery_… _hopelessness_… to name a couple of main ones," Santana offered promptly before really thinking. Blue eyes held dark chocolate ones and the heaviness was beyond palpable; so, they averted their gaze to quell the feeling.

Taken aback Brittany felt like stepping forward to place a comforting hand on Santana's shoulder, but when she took the first step towards her Doctor Edwards came back with nurse Garcia in tow and broke their moment.

"Ready for me, Lopez?" Edwards asked as Laura placed the suture kit that sat on a silver tray on top of a stand by the gurney's side.

"Do I have a choice?" Santana rhetorically quipped as her legs swung back and forth with anticipation as they hang from the gurney.

As Doctor Edwards put his rubber gloves on Brittany took the time to secure a place near Santana, you know, to see the procedure and aid the "patient".

"Here," Brittany said with a smile, offering her hand to the brunette to take, "let me hold your hand."

"No, thanks," the brown-eyed woman rebuffed the offer with little ceremony and after witnessing the fall of Brittany's smile Santana added less dryly, "I can handle it."

Edwards went ahead after taking a syringe from Laura, who was assisting him, and said to Santana, "I'll numb the area now."

Santana looked the other way when the doctor started to stick the needle inside her gash to do the ministration of anesthesia. Brittany winced and decided to look away as well.

"So, Zoey found the old playhouse?" The dancer asked softly, trying to take Santana's mind away from the unpleasant procedure.

"I know what you're doing," Santana replied mid-wincing, holding the blonde's stare but unable to keep a small smile from taking over her pained features. Brittany simply furrowed her brows and feigned ignorance. "You're trying to distract me."

"You didn't answer my question," Brittany stated with a sly smile.

"Yes, she found it," the brunette replied, conceding as Doctor Edwards discarded the syringe and asked Laura to hand him some instruments.

"We had nice times playing in that house," the blue-eyed woman said tenderly, locking her eyes on warm dark chocolate ones. It still amazed Brittany how Santana's eyes could go from cold to warm in a matter of seconds.

"Yeah, we did," Santana conceded without hesitation.

Both women probably had little recollection of the event. Perhaps just haze images lost in a sea of old, childhood memories. But deep down… both had an idea it had happened. Way more than one time only.

"_What should we play?" A seven-year old Santana asked a same aged Brittany as they stood inside a pink playhouse on the green grass of the Lopez's vast backyard._

"_We should play house, Sanny," the blonde little girl replied matter-of-factly with an easy grin._

_Little Santana, who wore a simple French braid that matched her best friend's – they were in the "matching" phase – couldn't help but grin back at the blue-eyed girl's answer. To Santana Brittany had the most interesting, simple, uncomplicated way of thinking._

"_I know that, Britt-Britt," Santana said with the tenderest voice. She could never be snappy with the blonde, unlike with her other little friends from school. "But what should we make believe?" The little brunette added, moving to open the small white window of the house._

"_We should make believe we're a family," little Brittany offered, broadening her smile as she took a seat on a tiny chair near a tiny table. "And this should be our daughter," she added gladly, catching a doll that sat on a corner._

"_You would be my wife?" The brunette girl asked with a hopeful tone and a sparkle in her warm brown eyes. She was definitely keen on the idea._

"_Only if you'd be mine, Sanny," the blonde girl replied just as hopeful without missing a beat. She loved her friend more than she loved any other person in the world, that's for sure._

_Santana considered this for a mere second and nothing made more sense to her in the world before. Back then little Santana's train of thought and ideas weren't tainted by what society told her head what her heart was supposed to feel or not. It was only much later that it, unfortunately, happened. _

"_Sure!" The brown-eyed girl stated with conviction as she took a seat opposite from her best friend. "You're my favourite person, Britt-Britt," she added with a wide grin that only Brittany was privileged enough to know._

"_And you're mine," Brittany said while holding out her pinky, which Santana quickly and familiarly held with her own._

"Here goes the first stitch, Lopez," Edwards proclaimed.

"You better not leave me a scar, Edwards," Santana shot back, averting her eyes from the gash. "_I_ wouldn't," she added smugly and the doctor simply shook his head with amusement.

Without thinking Brittany laced her pinky through Santana's, who felt surprised by the action and searched for blue eyes, which looked extremely soft. But after the initial shock and receptiveness, Santana pulled her finger back and she didn't even dare to continue looking at Brittany's eyes because she knew she'd find hurt there.

After a few more stitches Santana looked again at Brittany and said dejectedly, "You should go home, B." The situation was becoming unsustainable. Too awkward, too painful, too… much. "Go home to your wife," the brunette added stubbornly with a defeated tone, unable to pin-point where this was coming from. She just felt so tired…

Brittany sighed and ran a hand through her long blonde locks. "Jenna works on Saturday mornings," the dancer stated softly, but both women knew Santana's remark wasn't intended to mean that. It was meant to signify _far_ more.

Santana shot her a pointed, frustrated look whilst doctor Edwards – and nurse Laura – tried not to listen to their hushed conversation.

_This is so hard_, the blonde thought. She knew what Santana wanted… and _why_ she wanted it. However, the blonde was having trouble to bring herself around to it. Brittany casted her yes down and said somberly, "I'll go after the last stitch, San." After a beat the dancer pleaded, "Please…" to which Santana reluctantly nodded just as somberly.

* * *

><p>Santana entered Brittany's dance studio that Monday afternoon with her red wool overcoat peppered by little snowflakes. <em>God, Ohio winter is so annoying<em>; the brown-eyed woman thought. Her thoughts were quickly erased as Ally came into view from behind the small reception desk. Seeing the brunette woman the teenager smiled whilst the former matched it.

"I see you're on duty," Santana stated playfully, coming to a stop in front of the desk with a large brown envelope on hand.

"You know how devoted a sister I am," Ally shot back, widening her smile. Both Brittany's sister and mother helped her out taking the role of receptionist when they had the chance. The blonde dancer certainly couldn't afford one employee full time.

"Oh, that I know," the brown-eyed woman said in the least convincing tone.

"You doubt me, Santana Lopez?" The blue-eyed teen asked with an exaggerated gasp as she placed one hand on her chest for dramatic effect.

"Completely," Santana replied before laughing out loud. Allison soon joined her.

"Britt in?" The brunette added after their laughter died down, removing her gloves and stuffing them in her coat's pocket whilst juggling the envelope. It was much warmer inside the studio – thank God for heating – and she was beginning to feel it.

"Yeah."

"Is she teaching?"

"No, actually she just finished a class. She has a thirty minute break now. I went in there five minutes ago and, apparently, she was warming up to work on some choreography during her break."

Santana nodded her comprehension and said, "Ok, I'll go back there to talk to her."

"Cool," Allison said evenly. "Let her know that I'll be off for a snack at home, ok?" After a beat, she added with a smile, "Wanna join me? Mom baked cupcakes…"

"_Very_ tempting, but I have to pick up Zoey in a few," Santana replied matter-of-factly. "Besides, I had coffee and homemade scones with you guys last week. I'd hate to abuse Annie's hospitality."

Leaning further on the high-leveled reception desk, Ally quipped with a playful smile, "Ah, you've never had a problem with that before... Why start now?" The remark earned her a light, playful punch on the arm by Santana.

"Watch it, kid…" Santana trailed on, unable to keep a smile off her face as the teen busied herself with putting her winter coat on. The brown-eyed woman's gash throbbed a bit and she unconsciously touched her forearm on top of the coat's soft sleeve.

"By the way, you're going to my graduation, right?" The blue-eyed girl asked absentmindedly whilst putting her gloves on behind the desk.

"For the fifth time: _yes_," the brown-eyed doctor replied with a mock eye-roll. Santana hadn't been feeling all that comfortable attending Pierce related events lately, that's why she knew the teen was making sure to check, double-check, triple-check…

"Good," Ally said offhandedly while buttoning her coat. After a beat she added in a somewhat teasing tone, "Will you be bringing your _new girlfriend_, Riley?"

Santana's eyes widened, but she shot back with no hesitation as she lifted an eyebrow, "A) This is none of your business; B) Riley is out of town; and C) She is _not _my girlfriend." Santana then glared at Ally.

Allison smiled and said, "Just so you know, your glares don't work on me since I was, uh… well, they _never_ really did. As for 'c', she might as well be considering how Britt talks about her." And she shot the brunette a mischievous grin.

"Well, she _isn't_; and _Brittany_ shouldn't be talking about her at all," Santana said with exasperation. "_We _shouldn't be talking about her at all. This conversation is officially too weird," she added awkwardly.

Ally shook her head and replied candidly, "You know what? _You and my sister_ are the ones that are _weird_." The teen may joke to lighten things, but she felt a great deal for this mess of a situation her sister and ex-sister-in-law found themselves in. She didn't understand it at all. And people still wondered why she liked being a single gal.

The brunette desperately needed a subject change. "Still very excited with Columbia?" Santana asked with interest and a genuine happy smile. "How are the moving plans coming along?"

"'Yes' and 'fine', respectively," Allison stated briefly, matching the brunette's smile. "If you want to know more you'll have to follow through on your lunch offer," she added with a smirk as she finished with her coat and grabbed her scarf nearby.

"Please…" the brunette scoffed with uncanny ability. "We had _several_ lunches after that. I know a ploy to taste Rosa's food again when I see one."

Flashing the brown-eyed woman a coy, tight-lipped smile, Allison said with several nods, "Busted! Well played..." Santana smiled smugly and then the teen proceeded to wrap the scarf around her neck as she added in a serious tone, "As for Columbia –"

Santana cut her off whilst unbuttoning her coat before the teenager had the chance to finish her sentence, "If you thank me one more time I'll scream." The brunette grinned playfully and Ally matched it. "Like I said, the merit is all yours."

"Th –" Allison stopped before she could finish and amended with a smile, "See you around, San."

"See ya, Ally," Santana replied as she waved the blue-eyed teen goodbye.

Santana made her way towards the back of the room, undoing her white scarf and letting it just hang around the back of her neck. When she reached the wide window the brunette could see Brittany stretching her body in front of the mirrored wall inside the classroom. It always amazed her how flexible the dancer was. As she watched the blonde beauty, purposely without being noticed, the brown-eyed woman couldn't help the wistful smile that took over her features without as much as a request. After a few seconds Santana saw the dancer move gracefully towards a small stereo and put some music on. The first few piano notes could be heard faintly by the brunette through the classroom's wall as Brittany began to move in sync with it, and Santana stealthily made her way inside the room to watch and hear better. She stood by the door completely unnoticed as the first beautifully melancholic lines started to reverberate in the room.

_Who is to say who wins or who loses?  
><em>_I sing to myself at the end of the day when I know what the blues is,  
><em>_And all my mistakes have become masterpieces,  
><em>_I was born in the goodness of grace,  
><em>_And because of faith, because of courage, because of forgiveness,  
><em>_All my mistakes have become masterpieces…_

Santana leaned against the wall near the door with the envelope in hand and watched with utmost interest and attention as the blonde worked the room with grace, moving with emotion and ability as her body seemed to encapsulate the melody with remarkable ease. The dancer made it look like everything was effortless and natural and, no matter how many times Santana had watched the woman dancing before, it never ceased to render her awestruck.

_And there comes a time,  
><em>_You must stay in the moment while your heart's still bleeding,  
><em>_And there comes a time,  
><em>_When you must walk away though your heart's still beating…_

The brown-eyed woman kept watching as Brittany flung her body around like she was a ragdoll, throwing herself down to the floor, hugging her own body and standing straight up again with perfect posture and poise… She had never seen Brittany put so much emotion in her movements before, and she had seen the dancer perform _a lot_. Santana couldn't help but notice the lyrics and, perhaps she was being presumptuous, but she couldn't help but think it was about her, about… _them_. It briefly amused Santana their latest situations involving songs but, come to think of it, if she found solace in music it was only natural that Brittany would do the same. They always had been passionate about it.

_And there comes a time,  
><em>_You must stay in the moment while your heart's still bleeding,  
><em>_And there comes a time,  
><em>_When you must walk away though your heart's still beating…_

The intensity of the words and the rawness of the voice singing them kept touching Santana most deeply. The vision of that dancing goddess in front of her wasn't doing much to alleviate those feelings as she felt hypnotized by those movements and couldn't help but take care to see which way the dancer's golden blonde locks went whilst thrown in the air with no hesitation. She always avoided trying to see things through Brittany's point of view when their messy predicament was concerned. Santana Lopez was never the selfless, empathetic sort; but, at that instant, she let herself be taken down that bitter lane. However, still didn't matter. They were where they were, and there was nothing she could do to change that _regardless_ of some stroke of full awareness.

_Who is to say who wins or who loses?  
><em>_I sing to myself at the end of the day when I know what the blues is,  
><em>_And all my mistakes have become masterpieces,  
><em>_All my mistakes have become masterpieces._

As the lines of the song came to a finish and Brittany executed her last set of driven, rapid twirls around herself, her blue eyes caught sight of Santana's figure leaning against the wall by the door. Said unexpected sight caught the dancer by extreme surprise and she wound up losing her balance mid-twirl and falling to the floor with a thud. Brittany was shocked. _Had Santana been standing there the whole time? Watching her in her most vulnerable state? Hearing the honest words that matched her disposition so well, but words that she would never be able to utter out loud considering where they currently stood in their lives?_ She felt flustered and embarrassed as she watched the brunette woman coming her way with a poker face in place, and heard with uncanny vividness the sounds made by the heels of her knee-high boots that echoed through the ample, bare classroom space as they collided against the hardwood floor.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to distract you," Santana offered genuinely as she towered over the blonde. A tiny smile seemed to be playing at the corners of her lips.

"It was nothing," Brittany replied promptly as she looked up at the brunette, not wanting to stay on that topic for long. "What are you doing here?" She added a bit out of breath from the routine, trying hard to change the subject as she forgot the fact that she was still sitting on the floor.

Santana decided to ignore the question as she kneeled down in front of Brittany, placing the brown envelope on the floor beside her. Seeing the brown-eyed woman's action Brittany felt uncomfortable and decided to stand up, but Santana placed one hand on her shoulder to prevent her from doing that. She looked into dark brown eyes with curiosity.

"You'll get a cramp," Santana stated simply, removing both of Brittany's tennis shoes one by one with gentleness. The dancer let Santana do her thing after nodding her understanding. The action was very familiar to both of them. The brunette had been more than used to help the blonde with dance-related injuries as well as preventing them throughout their careers as dancer and doctor.

As Santana removed the last shoe she couldn't help but notice how Brittany was able to work dance clothes and freakin' legwarmers like no other individual she ever came across with. The brunette grabbed one of Brittany's ankles and held it a bit up in the air. The contact of cold hand with warm ankle sent electricity through both women's bodies.

Keeping the tight hold on the ankle with one hand whilst pressing on the top half of the plant of Brittany's foot with the other, Santana said with a sheepishly smile, "Sorry about the hand. It's cold outside."

"Your hands are _always_ cold," Brittany replied with a knowing smirk as she rested her upper-body's weight on her hands that were palm down to the floor by each side of her body.

It was true. Santana's hands – and feet, for that matter – had always been freakishly cold. No matter if it was winter or summer. Brittany always used to joke that even in that aspect they complemented each other. She warmed the brunette up on winters and Santana cooled the blonde down on summers. Brittany's first few months with Jenna were particularly unsettling. She felt like she would sweat out her whole body's liquid under the covers. Eventually she got used to it… but the distinction always plagued her head at bed time.

Santana merely matched the dancer's knowing smirk as she proceeded working her magic. "Working on some choreography, huh? I didn't think you'd have such requests around here," the brunette said with interest, holding those blue orbs.

"I don't," Brittany answered flatly, not enjoying the subject being brought back into play. "I do it for myself, you know, to challenge me," she added briefly, hoping Santana would sense her being uncomfortable with the topic.

"Choreography always was your favourite part of the job," the brown-eyed woman stated softly with confidence, not looking up from the task at hand: the dancer's feet. If there ever was a subject she mastered, that subject was Brittany. "You must miss it," she added, looking up to find those piercing blue oceans paired with a tender pearly-white smile.

Again, Santana knew her too well. "I do," Brittany confirmed with a morose nod, happy that Santana had let her off the hook.

"For what is worth, I thought your dance was… gorgeous," Santana said genuinely, locking eyes with Brittany as she smiled sweetly at her.

Even though her face was already flushed from dancing, Brittany couldn't hide a blush from Santana's trained eyes. The brunette's opinion still took precedent over anyone else's in the world for the dancer. So, Brittany coyly returned the smile and tried to change the subject to cut the building tension that spread through the air around them.

"How is your arm?" She asked with concern, averting her gaze to the work Santana was doing on her feet.

Santana shrugged and replied offhandedly while rotating one of Brittany's foot 360º, "It throbs every once in a while, but it is fine." After a silent beat she added, "Oh, almost forgot, Ally asked me to tell you she went home for a snack."

"Ok," Brittany said absentmindedly, more interested in watching Santana and feeling her hands on her legs. It felt undeniably nice. As an afterthought the dancer said, "You never did answer my question."

"Which one?"

"What are you doing here?" Without missing a beat, Brittany trailed on with a smile, "Not that I mind a visit from you..."

_Was that flirting?_ Santana thought, but quickly swatted the thought away. It did her no good whatsoever.

Santana gently placed Brittany's pale leg on the floor and stood up again with the envelope in hand. The blonde missed the contact instantly. So did the brunette.

"Right," Santana trailed on after shaking her head. Looking down at Brittany who stayed sitting down the brown-eyed woman added evenly, "You can stand up now." And then she outstretched her hand to Brittany, who grabbed onto it without second thought.

They came face to face with one another and it felt so good to hold on to each other that they simply stayed like that for a while, blue eyes on brown ones as the skin on skin contact made their palms tingle and burn, despite the coldness of Santana's hand.

Coming to her senses, Santana dropped the pale hand gently and, after clearing her throat, she added while handing Brittany the envelope, "I came to bring you these."

"What is it?" The blonde asked curiously while opening the brown envelope.

"The papers for the duplex," the brown-eyed woman volunteered before Brittany even had the chance to pull them out. "Gates – Jimmy's friend – managed to sell it," she added softly, noticing the mood shift in those blue eyes. _Why did she have to notice these things?_

"Oh," Brittany nearly sighed, looking from the papers in hand to Santana's eyes in front of her. That had definitely been a surprise. She didn't know what she was expecting, but _that _was definitely not it. "So soon?" She added in a low tone.

Santana took the question as rhetorical and said instead as she tried to keep any emotion from her voice, "All that's left is for you to sign them. I already did. When I get home I'll fax it over and he'll wire us the money." And then she took a pen out of her coat's pocket and handed it over to a distraught Brittany.

The blonde took the pen and kept staring blankly at the papers, after a silent while she looked up at Santana and asked, "Who bought it? You know?"

"I have no idea," the brunette replied honestly with a shrug as she held the dancer's gaze. After a moment she added bitterly, "Probably a couple of young schmucks in love who think they'll live happily ever after." She sneered. "Like that even exists," the brown-eyed woman scoffed.

"You don't mean that," the blue-eyed woman countered without missing a beat, not dropping the brunette's cold stare. Santana had always been a cynical but she was never this… this _jaded_. It broke the dancer to think she had done that.

"To some extent I do," Santana shot back in earnest, unwilling to back down.

Awkward silence took them over as their thoughts turned an introspective corner.

"That place…" Brittany began with emotion laced on her tone of voice as she fussed with the pen's cap. "That place was _perfect_," she concluded after a sigh.

Both knew she wasn't referring to the _place_ alone. Frankly, that duplex might as well had been a shack that the blonde would have found it perfect. Because they were together. Because they spend their days inside it, creating and sharing happy memories that now only seemed to be that: _memories_.

Santana nodded her agreement several times, and then she let out wistfully and bluntly, "Yes, it was. It was perfect…" Short pause as she looked at the floor, unable to hold Brittany's gaze anymore, "…while it lasted."

The dancer felt the sting of the words. Truthful as they may be. Blue eyes searched for brown ones and when they met it felt heavy and raw. But both held it. Feeling something was better than feeling nothing at all, right? Better than to feel numb.

Santana broke the silence as she said softly, "You have to sign them."

"Right," Brittany replied evenly, trying to keep her voice from cracking.

"Here," Santana said, turning around so the blonde could use her back to sign the papers properly.

Brittany signed beside all of Santana's signatures and stuffed the papers back into the envelope. Then she handed it along with the pen back to Santana.

A mourning sensation took over both women as they stood in front of each other not exactly sure on what to say next.

"I have to go now," Santana mustered up enough willpower to say. "Gotta pick up Zoey in a few…"

"Right…"

The brunette smiled a half smile, which was returned by the dancer, and turned around to walk away. As she did so, Brittany called out to her, "Hey, San!"

Turning around instantly, Santana replied, "Yeah?"

Brittany wanted to say something. She wanted to get something out of her chest, something that was suffocating her, even if she didn't know exactly what. Instead she asked softly, "You're going to Allison's graduation, right?" That dance was becoming very familiar to her.

"Sure, Britts," the brown-eyed woman replied without hesitation.

"Great," Brittany said with a wider smile. "I'll save you a seat," she added and Santana simply nodded before leaving the classroom.

Brittany looked on… still feeling the weight on her chest. Something was certainly not right.

* * *

><p>Brittany sat on her living room sofa with Jenna by her side as they watched television in comfortable silence. Zoey had gone home with Santana earlier. The dancer's day had been eventful. Ally's graduation was the theme of the day and everything ran smoothly and joyfully. Santana went, which made her happier than it ought to, even though the brunette arrived later than everybody else and wound up not taking the seat Brittany had reserved for her, which made her sadder than it ought to, even though she knew Santana would avoid seating near Jenna like the plague. The brown-eyed doctor decided to stay in the back of McKinley's auditorium instead, the blonde couldn't help but notice since Zoey spotted her Mama instantly and went running to join her. The sight of Santana wolf whistling when Allison's name was called on stage to get her diploma, and Zoey trying to mimic the brunette's action was one of those images she knew would never be erased from her brain, and it brought a broad grin to her face at the moment. Throughout and after the ceremony Brittany couldn't help but think back to her high school graduation day. To <em>their<em> high school graduation day. In fact, even as she sat on that sofa those memories would not let her be.

_Brittany sat in her cap and gown, leaning against one of the walls of McKinley's auditorium with Santana's yearbook open in her lap and a sharpie in her hand as graduates and family members walked up and down around her. Her girlfriend had written something unbelievably sweet for her and she was having a hard time trying to come up with something that could convey everything she felt. She had always been terrible with words. All her essays turned out worse than something written by a fifth grader… if she was on a good day._

_Anxiously the blonde teenager tapped the sharpie against the yearbook. Santana was taking pictures with her folks and would be coming back in no time. Her own parents would come looking for her in no time. It was too much pressure. Thinking hard all that came to her head were Santana's words… Nobody had ever said sweeter words to her before. Especially the ending ones._

_I just… I just like to see you happy.  
><em>_I just want you to be happy, B. Always.  
><em>_I can't wait for New York with you!  
><em>– _S_

_Brittany sighed for the umpteenth time and decided she should just keep it simple. Santana always said she liked that about her. How she always said what she felt without any "bullshit", unlike most people the brunette knew. Pulling the sharpie's cap with her teeth Brittany started writing her message. A few seconds later she was done. An unsure smile graced her lips as she hoisted herself up and went looking for her girlfriend._

_Santana, who was talking to her parents, spotted her girlfriend from afar. The sight instantly brought a smile to her lips. God, she loved Brittany!_

_Approaching the three people, Brittany asked politely looking at Martin and Nina Lopez, "Can I steal San for a bit?"_

_They nodded just as politely whilst the blue-eyed teenager took Santana by the hand and walked with her cap-and-gown-clad girlfriend through a sea of people to stop near a corner._

_Still holding one of Santana's hands Brittany handed her the yearbook that was securely gripped by her spare hand. The brunette teen grabbed it with a smile. God, she loved Santana! And that dimple on her left cheek would certainly be the death of her one of these days._

"_You're done?" Santana asked with a smile that clearly translated her adoration for the blonde._

_Brittany nodded, matching that smile. "Read it. It is next to Tina's," the blue-eyed teen said, feeling a bit anxious all over again._

_Santana eagerly opened the yearbook and went to the page she knew her girlfriend was referring to: one in the back. Brittany began to unconsciously bit her bottom lip as she watched the brown-eyed girl read what she had written. All she could think was: please, God, let her like it. Let her understand everything I meant by that._

_She watched Santana closely and as her girlfriend mouthed every word with no sound, Brittany could register the shift in those dark chocolate eyes she knew so well, those eyes she loved so much. When Santana looked up with the sweetest smile on her face and a look in her eyes that could only be described as bewitching and intoxicating, the blonde knew she had liked it._

_Santana stepped forward slowly and laid a feather kiss on Brittany's cheek. After full lips severed contact with her skin, the blue-eyed girl couldn't help but bring her hand up to touch the patch that had been just kissed. A wide, foolish smile took over her lips right then._

"_I loved it, Britts," Santana said in that husky tone of voice of hers that managed to make the blonde's legs weak ten out of ten times. "It's perfect," she added with a foolish grin of her own spread across her face._

Brittany blinked back the memories as Jenna laughed of something that was showing on the television. Brittany laughed as well just to keep up with her wife, she had no idea what show was even playing on the device. Somehow those few simple words she had written all those years back still rang true, oh-so-true… And they haunted her. Now more than ever.

_YOU make me happy, S.  
><em>_The happiest I've ever been. The happiest I'll ever be.  
><em>_That's all there is to it, really.  
><em>_Love you more than you'll ever know…  
><em>– _B_

She still remembers how she underlined the first "you" twice and how she dotted every single "i" with a heart. In fact, up until this day, she always dots them with hearts. Santana mocked her constantly about it, even though the brunette always smiled while reading them. Brittany felt awful seating on that sofa. _How did they come to this? Why her? Why them?_ The blue-eyed woman still also remembers that day… That one day filled with the two of them professing to each other their endless happiness, and then their love, and then it was all ambulance sirens and broken hearts. Brittany thought bitterly about how their future was lost that day… as easily and irretrievably as a tennis ball at twilight. She looked sideways at Jenna and midst all those thoughts she knew for sure that she would have to work harder on that. Much harder.

* * *

><p><strong>Phew... that was a long, eventful one! Hope you appreciated and review if you will :D<br>Next stop: Christmas, because nothing brings out repressed emotions and stuff like a major holiday lol**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Glee _nor its original characters (if I did it would probably be called _The Brittany and Santana Show_, and all the other characters would only be there to help advance their plot).

**A/N: **I know, I know... The delay sucked but it wasn't really my fault... per se. First the Independence Day holiday fell on a Wednesday when I thought it would fall on a Thursday so I could have a long weekend to write. Then I lost 8, yes, eight whole pages and it pissed me off to no end. So, I took a few days to sulk, brood, mope, curse inwardly at myself and my computer mostly (but not exclusively), and let's just say things were ugly. After leaving my frustration on the pavement at my daily morning runs I started again. So (and this is only for the minority of you), I'm sorry about being unable to foresee my many misfortunes. Just know that snappy update "requests" are frowned upon by yours truly, and if you're wondering when a new chapter will be updated, I don't know, try PM'ing me like many of you already do because I'm still trying to perfect my mental telepathy skills.

** This chapter goes out to **pahke**, because new readers are awesome and I apologize for keeping you awake. As for your PS question: yes, indeed I am. And I'm still baffled by the fact that there are actually people out there that root for Brittany and Artie to end up together. Before I started writing this story and reading your reviews I had no idea there were such people out there. It's like, I don't know the ideal analogy, it's like rooting for... Elizabeth Bennet to end up with Mr. Collins instead of Mr. Darcy, you know what I mean? It's just so wrong and so less. It's just plain old settling :)

**Thanks for all the reviews, PMs... and your patience with my busy schedule and/or misfortunes. You're excellent readers! Hope you're still interested in this tale. Enjoy Chapter 13, or as I call it "The Never-Ending Christmas" Chapter. It's *that* long, but hopefully enjoyable. It took a lot of work to try to nail those nuances and try to make *you* visualize what *I* am seeing. I was extremely self-indulgent on this one, I must say. More so than usual and that's a lot :D**

* * *

><p><strong>Mischances, Stances and Stolen Glances<br>**_||Chapter Thirteen||_

Rosa approached the kitchen with Brittany a couple of steps behind her. As they went about to enter the room both women could hear a couple of distinct voices coming from inside.

Santana's animated voice was heard saying, "Then the old lady turned around, yanked the thing from behind and said to me with little ceremony: 'See, was it _that_ hard, buttercup?'"

The brunette was heard laughing out loud along with a male chuckle: _Jimmy's_, Brittany quickly recognized.

"Look who I ran into outside," Rosa declared with the newspaper in hand as she and Brittany approached the kitchen table where Santana was sitting and having breakfast while on Skype with Jimmy.

Santana turned her head to see who Rosa was talking about and spotted a smiling Brittany.

"Oh, hey, Britt," the brown-eyed woman greeted the blonde with a small smile on her lips. And then she added playfully, "So, Rosa saved you the trouble of breaking and entering, huh?" This earned Santana a dismissive, amused head-shake from the dancer.

"Morning, San," Brittany said sweetly and then stepped forward to behind Santana's chair so Jimmy could see her through the laptop's webcam. "Hey, Jimmy!" She added enthusiastically, glad to see the man again. She really missed her New York friends.

"Britt! Long time no see," Jimmy replied promptly, matching the dancer's tone. Both he and Santana were having breakfast in their bathrobes. Though his was navy blue, and Santana's was white.

"Do you want the newspaper, Tanita?" Rosa asked absentmindedly with the item in hand as Jimmy stifled a chuckle at the nickname. It never got old to him.

Santana glared at him for a second before turning her head to address the short-haired woman, "I don't think so. Yesterday's _big_ headline about Mayor Albright's daughter's 'award'…" she used an air quote, "…winning roses was _too_ touching for me. I'm still reeling from it," Santana said with sarcasm dripping from her voice.

Brittany and Jimmy grinned as Rosa shook her head and asked the blue-eyed woman, "Should I bring another mug for you, corazón?"

Before Brittany could answer Santana spoke, "Yes, please, Rosa. She might as well have some coffee while she waits for Zoey." Rosa went further into the kitchen to grab it while Brittany took a seat at the table with a curious look on her face. "She is finishing watching a movie in the living room and, let me tell you, I tried to get her ready for you but you should have seen the scowl she awarded me with when I suggested we paused the movie…" Santana elaborated with an amused tone before taking a sip of her black coffee.

"She's in one of her moods, huh?" Brittany asked knowingly with a smile in place and Santana simply nodded whilst drinking.

Taking a bite off his cream-cheese covered bagel, Jimmy hinted casually, "Well, _I'm_ in a mood as well because of a film." Both women were watching him on screen.

"Oh, don't even start that again, Jimmy…" Santana replied with exasperation, only stopping her eye-rolling to take the mug Rosa came back to give her.

"What?" Brittany asked with interest, placing her elbow on the table and resting her head on a closed fist.

"How many times have I told you not to feed the animals, B?" Santana quipped offhandedly while fixing Brittany's coffee. The dancer took time to observe the brown-eyed woman fixing her coffee. Santana poured the dark liquid until a smidge over the middle of the mug.

Dismissing Santana's quip, Jimmy said ceremoniously, "Oh, you haven't heard? Santana's been cheating on me…" He shifted his gaze from the blonde to the brunette. Brittany heard him but continued watching Santana as she poured three generous dashes of milk in the mug, filling it completely. "With a cad called _Puck_, to make things worse. Who on Earth name their kid _Puck_?"

"I've told you it's a nickname, Jimmy," Santana said in a huff as she put three spoons and a half of sugar into the mug, being obliviously watched by a smiling Brittany. "And you're being ridiculous!" She scolded with a scowl, looking from the task at hand up to the screen of the laptop and back to the mug as she swirled its content with the spoon.

"Am I? All I know is that I wanted to watch _Groundhog Day_ with you through the phone and couldn't because you had lent it to your best bro, _Puck_," Jimmy whined as Santana absentmindedly handed the mug over to Brittany, who beamed whilst taking the object and having a first sip.

"You're so dramatic… I think you've been hanging out too much with Man Hands," Santana said evenly, holding the man's stare through the laptop screen. "Besides, we watched _Rushmore_ instead."

"Not the same," Jimmy replied like a petulant child and Santana just rolled her eyes again. Then he turned to Brittany and asked, "Aren't you with me on this one, Britt?"

Brittany was still so over the moon with watching Santana make her coffee seconds ago just the way she loved it that she completely lost track of the conversation. "What?" The blonde deadpanned under the scrutiny of two pair of eyes.

"Don't you think Santana is cheating on me with this _Puck_ character?" Jimmy asked again, leaning closer to his own laptop's webcam.

"I'm afraid I can't be too impartial when it comes to _Puck_," Brittany evaded with a grin, receiving a shake of head from Santana and a matching grin from Jimmy.

"Thank you!" The British man said with his wide grin still in place.

"Just shut up, Jimmy!" Santana used one of her favourite phrases when it came to dealing with her friend.

"The coffee is great, San…" Brittany trailed on with a megawatt smile. Santana didn't know exactly what had warranted her that specific type of smile. "Thank you," the blue-eyed woman added without missing a beat.

"The merit is all Rosa's. She made it," Santana said in her oblivious state, looking around for Rosa, who had already disappeared from the kitchen. Fixing Brittany's coffee just as she liked it was still such a normal, familiar activity to the brunette that she hasn't even realized how much it had meant to the dancer.

Brittany's megawatt smile grew even bigger at Santana's obliviousness. So, she just didn't say anything else. She didn't explain it. She just took another sip of her perfect cup of coffee.

"Is it snowing there?" Jimmy asked the girls, making conversation.

Turning her gaze from Santana to the hazel-eyed man, Brittany answered offhandedly, "Yeah, not as much as yesterday, but it's still snowing." The brunette watched her from the corner of her eye and couldn't help but notice how that blue sweater made Brittany's eyes look bluer than they normally are. And then she immediately chastised herself inwardly for noticing that.

"Yeah, here as well... I can't believe I'm going to London tomorrow to spend Christmas with my cold, unattached parents and my older brother, the wanker," Jimmy complained, popping a grape into his mouth.

The British man and Santana had a lot in common when it came to their parents and growing up with them. Perhaps that was one of the reasons they sort of gravitated towards each other when they first met and became such good friends eventually. The only real difference was that James never felt loved by his parents. Not ever. Cold and unattached were the less troubling of their problems for the tall man. Their critical behavior, their judgmental ways, their unnerving passive-aggressiveness, their patronizing remarks and their absolute love to make not-so-subtle jokes about James's letters from his first year at Eaton, in which the young boy begged to come back home, certainly were his biggest issues with his _parents dearest_.

"I need some cheering up. Where is my goddaughter?"

"Haven't you been listening? She's too wrapped up in _Tinker Bell_ to grace us with her presence," Santana quipped playfully.

"Well, the only way I have out of this funk is to see her reenactment of you scolding Poppy after she destroyed one of your shoes," Jimmy deadpanned, earning a glare from Santana who also glared sideways at a laughing Brittany. "That kid is hilarious!"

"Yeah, well, she's busy," Santana dismissed in a huff, taking a long drink of coffee. "Besides, our child is not your personal court jester."

"Zoooey," Jimmy called out loudly. Santana widened her eyes as Brittany took another sip of her perfect coffee, highly entertained by the never-changing antics of those two.

"Shut up or I'll turn you off," the brunette warned strangely calm. Jimmy did what he was told after he saw a tan hand going towards the laptop's lid with the goal of closing it.

"I think it's nice that you're giving your family another chance, Jimmy," the blonde piped in, ever the optimist.

"That's only because you've never had the _privilege_ to meet them, Britt," the British man said sarcastically, looking straight at the dancer. "Come on, San… There's still time for you to change your mind and come with me," he added, shifting his hopeful gaze to the brunette.

"Like I told you yesterday, and the day before, _and_ the day before that one: no, thanks," the brown-eyed woman replied promptly and candidly, shaking her head repeatedly for emphasis. "One dinner with your parents was enough awkwardness to last for a lifetime. In fact, you still owe me for that. It's really the type of never-ending debt," Santana added, finishing up her coffee.

"Besides, San's spending Christmas with us," Brittany said matter-of-factly without missing a beat, eyeing the screen of the laptop.

"Uh… no, I'm not," Santana shot back calmly, shifting her gaze from Jimmy to the dancer. "And I've _also_ told you this before," the brunette added, leaning further into her chair's back.

Brittany's brows furrowed slightly as she re-focused her confused blue eyes on Santana. "I thought you were kidding," the blonde stated honestly, putting her warm cup down on the table.

Before Santana could reply, Jimmy beat her to it, "She wasn't. She plans on coming to London with me."

The brown-eyed woman spared the spiky-haired man a glare before turning slightly to face Brittany. "I wasn't kidding. Why would I kid about that? I'm not going to London and I'm not going to your parents', like I said, I'm going to the Orphan's Christmas thing that practically arranged itself at Charlie's," Santana said evenly, crossing her arms absentmindedly.

"_That's_ why I thought you were kidding. Christmas at a bar with _Puck_ and a bunch of strangers? That's –" Brittany countered with resolution, leaning forward a bit due to strong disbelief, but she was interrupted mid-speech by James.

"Wait! Did I hear it right? You're doing Christmas with that twat?" Jimmy asked in a huff whilst holding a coffee cup.

"Ok, you're going now, Jimmy," Santana said in a huff herself. "I'll talk to you later, alright? Bye-bye," She added, moving a hand to close the laptop.

"I'm watching you, _Tanita_," Jimmy said his last words before being cut off, pointing two fingers at his eyes and then at the screen to fortify his statement.

"You're not serious about Christmas, are you?" The blonde asked softly, locking eyes with the brunette.

"I am," Santana shot back resolutely, holding the stare.

"But, San, you're supposed to spend Christmas with your family and friends, with people who loves you… You know that," Brittany said in the same tone, looking at the brown-eyed woman with tender eyes. After a beat she added, "You should come and spend it with us. Everybody would love that."

_Certainly not everybody_, Santana thought. They stayed in silence for a while, and then the brunette sighed and replied sincerely, "I don't think that's a good idea, Britt. And don't tell me you don't see how awkward that would be for everybody. I know for a fact it would be _extremely_ awkward for me. I thank you, like I thanked Annie when she called, but it's not my place anymore."

Silence took over them yet again. Their eyes glued to one another's as a handful of different emotions ran through their bodies. Of course Brittany understood… _but_, it killed her to think of Santana spending Christmas alone, spending Christmas without… _her_.

So, the dancer broke the comfortable silence when she said in a low tone, "It _is_ your place." She couldn't let the brunette think otherwise. "Like it or not you'll _always_ be a part of this family," Brittany added, emotion laced in her voice as Santana averted her gaze a bit. "And Zoey would love to have her Mama there," she delivered her last and most important point, which granted her the brunette's full attention back.

_Why does she have to do that? Can't she see how hard all of this is already?_ Santana thought as she heard the blonde, internally shaking her head. "Come on, Britt…" Santana trailed on wistfully, actually shaking her head. "You know you're not playing fair," she added, not dropping that piercing blue gaze this time.

"The truth is always fair, San," Brittany shot back with conviction, taking a sip of her coffee just to do something with her unquiet hands.

Santana grinned dryly. Brittany's naïveté was both gladsome and sad. "Well, it may be so in Brittanyland, but not in the real world," the brunette stated bitter-sweetly, fussing with the handle of the stainless still coffee pot.

Brittany searched for those brown orbs, which unwillingly let themselves be captured by distressed blue ones. The blonde hated when Santana went back to one of her old tricks: seeking solace in the darkest corners of herself.

As the dancer dejectedly pondered, Santana spoke firmly, "We should just stick to the plan. You get Zoey on Christmas Eve and I get her on Christmas Day. Next year we switch and so on." Brittany was about to say something, but Santana stopped her as she spoke first, "Please, don't fight it, B…"

"Just promise me you'll at least _try_ to take my offer in serious consideration," Brittany pleaded softly, reflexively reaching out to grab Santana's hand on top of the table. She was surprised when Santana actually allowed her pale, warm hand to hold the brunette's tan, cold one. So, the dancer instantly smiled.

Brittany's hand felt nice around hers. It was undeniable. So, she decided she wouldn't fight it this time. Truth was: she was tired. So tired… Looking the blonde straight in the eyes, Santana replied just as softly, "Have I ever made you a promise I couldn't keep?" And she fell silent after that, just holding the other woman's stare.

Brittany's smile dropped a bit. The answer to that question was: never. So, taking the brown-eyed woman's silence, Brittany got her answer. Loud and clear. She knew how stubborn and resolute Santana could be. When the brunette put her foot down there was no turning back. Her pride would never allow that.

"Should we go look for Zoey? The movie must have finished by now," Santana said with a tentative smile, moving on to brighter subjects whilst retracting her hand and standing up from the breakfast table.

The blue-eyed woman nodded, matching Santana's smile as she followed the brunette to the living room where their daughter was currently at.

As they entered the living room both could see that the movie was still playing because Tinker Bell was flying around the screen with a little girl, so it seemed. Santana and Brittany hadn't spotted Zoey yet, since all they could see was the back of the French styled sofa, and before they could reach said piece of furniture Brittany stopped in front of the Christmas tree with a wide smile on her face.

"Zoey told me you two went tree shopping together," the blonde said with glee in her tone of voice while eyeing the tall tree up and down. "It looks beautiful, San," she added, shifting her gaze to the brunette who had promptly stopped by her side.

"Yeah, I wasn't feeling like putting up a tree but the little bug was set on it and… well, I couldn't say no to –" Santana started to reply nonchalantly but was cut off by a voice coming from the sofa. Both women turned their heads at that direction.

"Shh…" Zoey vocalized with exasperation from the sofa as she briefly stuck her head over the back of the piece of furniture and went back to her movie.

Santana and Brittany exchanged an amused glance among each other, their two pairs of eyebrows shooting up in sync.

"I believe our child just _shushed_ us, Britts," the brown-eyed woman said with an amused tone, smiling widely. Her voice had unconsciously lowered, though.

"I believe she just did," the dancer shot back in the same fashion. Her voice had also lowered, but the kid still could hear them. "And you know what they say about kids who shush their parents, don't you, San? Yeah, they say Santa finds that to be _very_ naughty behaviour," Brittany added playfully as she and Santana grinned widely together.

"Yes, I've heard that as well," Santana said wickedly, nodding her head for emphasis.

A few seconds later Zoey stuck her head over the back of the sofa again and said meekly and apologetically, "I'm sorry, it's just that the end is the _best_ part." This time Poppy showed her head as well. She had been lying down with the kid the whole time.

"I'm sure Santa can let this one slide, Z," Brittany said soothingly with a broad smile, not wanting to mess with their girl further. Zoey smiled and gladly went back to the movie.

Brittany's eyes were roaming the beautiful tree when they fell on a specific ornament, one that she clearly recognized and that brought a toothy smile to her features.

"Oh, My God! Look at this…" Brittany said with excitement – albeit in a hushed tone to respect their daughter – while pointing at the ornament without dropping the smile. "I can't believe you still have it."

Santana smiled as well as she looked at the round, handmade, red and green paper ornament that featured a picture of herself and Brittany when they were wee kids. They had their arm around the other's shoulders, and both wore wide grins that were adorably missing a couple of teeth that had fallen out.

"Yeah, I didn't know my parents had kept it," Santana replied in the same hushed tone as unforeseen emotion filled her voice. "Zoey and I found it when we decorated the tree," she added, looking from the dancer to the ornament.

"What were we? Six? Seven?" The blue-eyed woman asked, slightly knitting her eyebrows together.

"Six, I think," the brunette replied offhandedly, twitching her mouth to one side and closing one eye as she conjured the memory. "I know I made it, but I don't even remember where or how…" she trailed on, still partially lost in thought.

"I remember we made it at school. I'm sure I have an identical one back at my parents," Brittany said matter-of-factly, looking sideways at brown eyes.

"Oh, yeah, I think I remember now," Santana said wistfully, recalling hazily that the day she brought the ornament home and _Nina Lopez_ actually allowed her to hang a crooked, paper made ornament on her perfect, elegant and flawlessly decorated Christmas tree was one of those rare days she actually felt loved by her parents. _That was a good Christmas_, Santana thought to herself.

Seeing the shift of mood in those dark chocolate eyes, something she was very good at, Brittany decided to change the subject to something lighter. She said playfully, "So, there's a question that I've been dying to ask you…" Santana turned to face her, expecting said question with a calm semblance. "Have you been a _good_ girl or a _naughty_ girl?" Brittany asked with a smirk and a bit of a flirt. The hushed tone they were still using gave her words an extra cheeky bounce as they rolled off her tongue. "Santa wants to know…" She trailed on with a wink that still managed to send some heat to the brunette's cheeks.

Matching the dancer's smirk, Santana shot back lowly and huskier as she upped the flirtation a notch or two, "Well, you know me… I'm always very, _very_ naughty." And she winked back. _Two could play this game_, she thought.

This time the heat went straight to the blonde's cheeks and she cursed her alabaster skin which, unlike Santana's tan one, betrayed her and turned pink for anyone with a pair of functional eyes to see. The brown-eyed woman smirked wider at the effect she still totally had on Brittany, who could only gulp hard and move along with the conversation.

Fidgeting and clearing her throat, a flushed Brittany replied as she held Santana's confident stare, "Uh, I'm sure Santa Claus will let _Santana_ Claus slide, too." And Brittany flashed the brunette one of her adorable smiles, and Santana was sure that the blonde was actively trying to break her because she was one more artifice away from stepping forward and kissing those pink lips senseless like once upon a time.

Apparently Zoey wasn't _that_ immersed in the movie, and their tones weren't _that_ hushed, because when she heard the mention of _Santana Claus_ the little girl giggled from the living room sofa and repeated the name with amusement, which made her moms break eye contact and look that way briefly to exchange another Zoey-induced adoring smile.

Refocusing her attention on the blonde by her side, Santana said without thinking as the previous playful spirit still ran through her veins, "And I'm sure Santana Claus _won't_ let you slide. No _special_ present for you this year."

The minute the words were out of her mouth and she watched Brittany's face as she registered them, the brunette regretted speaking them. She didn't mean anything unpleasant or awkward with the teasing. Honestly. It just flew out of her mouth without afterthought.

_Santana stirred awake in the middle of the night. Without turning around or opening up her eyes she instinctively moved her arm behind her underneath the covers to pull Brittany closer to her body. The brunette was feeling a bit cold. Instead of touching a warm body the tan hand came in contact with the coldness of the sheet. That was enough for Santana to bring herself to open her eyes and turn around to find the covers half pulled down and an empty space beside her. She turned around again to look at the alarm clock on top of the nightstand. It read 4:01 AM. Uttering an unhappy sigh, Santana pulled the covers down and her body up, and then swung her legs over the edge of Brittany's high school days' bed, coming to a sitting position. The brown-eyed woman hung her head against her chest for an instant and ran a hand through her messy bed hair._

_The brunette left Brittany's old room and started to make her way downstairs after passing by the bathroom and seeing it unoccupied. As she walked down the Pierces' carpeted staircase, Santana couldn't help but look at the many family photographs that adorned the wall alongside it. She could see each one of them clearly despite the darkness. A few of her wife as a baby and little girl brought a small smile to her lips. They never failed to do that every time she walked up and down those stairs and focused on them. Some even featured her alongside the blue-eyed woman, and there was even one or two from their wedding day. Santana couldn't help but think about her mother and how the woman had said more than once in the privacy of the Lopez home how tasteless she thought those "shrines" – her exact word for it – to be. Santana actually always thought of it as warm and sweet. No wonder her mother couldn't grasp it; the brunette thought as she walked down the last step._

_Santana turned right and continued walking slowly the length of the small hallway, when she turned left into the living room she saw her wife leaning against the small arch that led to the kitchen. Brittany was serenely lost in thought, watching the Christmas tree as the twinkle lights cast a beautiful shine over her stunning face. Santana smiled lightly and briefly, the blonde hadn't registered her slightly afar presence yet._

_Santana leaned against the living room wall and crossed her arms across her chest. And then she said hoarsely, startling her wife, "Trying to catch Santa Claus in the act again?" The brunette flashed Brittany a puckish smile._

"_Please, it's been ages since I believed in him," Brittany countered offhandedly in a low tone, fully recovered from being startled but moments ago. "And I only tried that once," she added with a scoff._

"_We are certainly getting old, babe… but high school wasn't ages ago," the brown-eyed woman teased lightly, smile still in place. "Besides, I can think of two… no, scratch that, three times you tried that."_

_Brittany, who still leaned against the kitchen's entrance arch, dismissed her wife's teasing with a repeated shake of her head and a pointed look shot her way. The message was clearly received and abided by an already satisfied Santana._

"_The bed –" Santana began to say from her place against the wall, her voice reaching the normal level of highness now that sleepiness was dissipating from her tone, when Brittany cut her off._

"_Lower…" the dancer trailed on using a low tone as she pointed towards further in the living where her cousin, his wife and their son slept. Christmas at the Pierces could get very crowded when both Rob's brother and Annie's sister decided to come with their respective offspring… and their offspring's offspring._

"_I don't care if I wake Hairy Harry and his child of the corn," Santana spat but kept her tone low as she wrapped her arms closer to her chest._

"_Don't say that, babe. He's just a kid…" Brittany whispered softly, and after receiving a pointed look and a cocked head from her wife she added with a smile, "A slightly aggravating kid, but a kid nonetheless." She knew she was being kind; the seven-year old boy – Harry Junior – was absolutely insufferable. The whole family, apart from his parents, thought so._

"_Whatever you say to delude yourself, Britts…" the plastic surgeon woman let out whilst shaking her head for emphasis. "Like I was saying, the bed was cold. Come back, babe," she almost whined out. After a beat, Santana added, "What are you doing down here at this time anyway?"_

_Brittany didn't answer. She simply lifted the tall glass of water that was on her right hand, hidden from the brunette's eyes by the partial darkness as Santana walked over to her wife. Somehow unable to keep her distance any longer. The dancer smiled at her wife as she stopped in front of her and offered the brunette the glass. Santana took it promptly and while she took two long gulps of water Brittany walked over to the Christmas tree, stopping in front of it to admire it better._

_Seconds later the blonde felt Santana standing close behind her. The brunette's breath hot on her pale neck. It still surprised Brittany the effect her wife's simple proximity had on her. No words were being spoken, which only made the moment more intense. Her blue eyes caught sight of the glass that Santana was handing back to her from behind, and when she took it she felt a pair of strong arms wrap themselves around her midsection. It felt really nice, so she placed her free arm on top of them as she took another sip of her water._

"_It's so beautiful," Brittany said softly, eyeing the tree and its lights up and down whilst feeling Santana's chin resting on her left shoulder._

_The dancer felt her wife nodding against her shoulder and suddenly the brunette's hands were travelling from the blonde's midsection to her stomach. Brittany instantly smiled at that as she promptly placed her free hand on top of Santana's. The blue-eyed woman wasn't even showing yet. She was still in her first trimester but the brunette had loved to do that from the moment Brittany told her she was pregnant._

_The dancer broke the comfortable silence. "You shouldn't talk about Harry Junior, you know, babe? They say your kid picks up all the trades you complain about other people's children," Brittany stated playfully with kids in mind._

_Santana scoffed. "There's no way our kid will be anything but awesome. I mean, it'll be our kid and we're completely awesome," the brown-eyed woman stated matter-of-factly through a small grin. Only talking about their kid was enough to put a smile on her face._

"_Point taken," Brittany concurred with a grin of her own, feeling Santana hold her slightly tighter._

"_Can you believe it? Next Christmas we'll have a baby with us, Britt. Our baby," Santana said tenderly as Brittany turned her head a bit to look at her wife's face and see that they had a matching goofy smile plastered on their mugs. "I can't wait for that…" the brunette trailed on with elation, moving her hands underneath Brittany's on top of the dancer's stomach. _

_Little did they know that that very Christmas was the last they would be spending together before mischance decided to drop them a visit and disrupt their treasured outlines for a happy future. The best-laid plans of mice and men…_

"_Neither can I, San," Brittany spoke sweetly. And then she turned around on her wife's arms, placing her own around the shorter woman's neck and feeling Santana's snake around her waist. Brittany slowly leaned in, like gravity was pulling her forward, and captured the brunette's full lips with hers. It was sweet, and tender, and unrushed, and intimate… Their lips moved gracefully against one another's. Brittany put all the emotion possible into that kiss for some reason. She just felt the uncontrollable need to do so, to kiss her wife with everything she had._

_After a moment that felt like centuries, Brittany pulled back and she could see Santana's eyes still closed, which brought a smile to her lips as the plastic surgeon finally opened her eyelids to expose those warm dark chocolate orbs she loved so much._

"_What was that for?" Santana asked with a husky voice and a foolishly happy smile on her face while holding her wife's stare._

_Brittany shrugged as Santana tucked a strand of blonde hair behind the dancer's ear with affection. She honestly had no idea, but she answered in earnest. "For being you," Brittany smilingly stated softly, her arms still around Santana's neck as she kept a strong hold of the empty glass behind the brunette's back._

_Santana's smile widened and it reached her eyes. A part of her still couldn't quite believe how lucky she turned out to be._

"_Let's go to bed," the brown-eyed woman said, pecking the blonde quickly on the lips before letting her out of her hold._

_Brittany nodded and intertwined their fingers before they started heading upstairs. _

"_About lunch tomorrow with my parents…" Santana began to say but Brittany knew where she was going before the brunette even finished her train of thought._

"_We're going," Brittany simply replied knowingly._

"_But…" the brown-eyed plastic surgeon barely piped in as they slowly walked._

"_No buts, San… They want to spend time with you. You know they love you."_

"_Do I?" Santana asked rhetorically and doubtful, which earned her a pointed look from her wife. She did know. Sometimes._

_Little did she know back then that that very lunch would be the last time she would ever get to see her parents alive. Flash forward to the future and little did she know she wouldn't even be able to remember what were her last words to Martin and Nina Lopez. C'est la vie, right?_

_The dancer placed her empty glass on top of a sideboard on their way to the bedroom and in no time they reached her old room in comfortable silence. They were met by the dark sight of the turquoise flowery, birds-and-butterfly wallpaper that Santana always thought it was so Brittany, and the brunette took her place on the right side of the twin sized bed with the dancer on her right. Both exchanged quick goodnights and went about sleeping._

_Seconds later, Brittany said excitedly as she inched closer to Santana's back, "San!"_

_Santana, who was seconds away from falling asleep, winced at the shrieking sound. "Hmm?" She hummed sleepily, slightly annoyed at her wife's perkiness in the middle of the dead night._

"_I forgot to say Merry Christmas. It's past midnight, babe," the blue-eyed woman said less loudly, but just as jolly in the brunette's ear while snaking her arm across Santana's waist._

_How could Santana stay annoyed at someone as adorable as her wife? She couldn't. She never could. It was that simple. Turning around to face the blonde in the dark of the room, Santana smilingly replied in the sweet tone reserved just for her lady, "Merry Christmas, B." And she received another peck on the lips._

_After a lingering look, Santana finally said, "Ok, let's go back to sleep now, babe. You know how cranky I get without it." And then it was her time to lay a peck on the dancer's lips and turn around to sleep again._

_Less than a minute later she felt Brittany's arm around her waist grip tighter, and next she felt her wife's front being flushed hard against her back. She knew what that meant even before the pale hand started to make its way under her grey tank top._

_Despite her full knowledge, Santana still asked sheepishly without turning around, "Britt, what are you doing?"_

"_You know what," Brittany replied huskily directly into her ear before nibbling on her wife's earlobe, her furtive hand finally reaching high enough to graze the swell of a perky breast._

_All Santana could reply was a low, sexy moan._

"_It's Christmas already… so, it's time for Santana Claus to hand me," Brittany mischievously emphasized the double meaning word as she cupped a whole breast, "my special present."_

_Feeling the effect of the throbbing shot directly to her core and not being able to handle it any longer, Santana swiftly turned around and topped her wife. From Brittany's surprised smirk the brunette knew she had been keen on the move._

"_I think that can be arranged," Santana husked in the dancer's ear before beginning her assault on the pale neck she had always been obsessed with. The ridiculously premature moan elicited by her wife, much like her own seconds ago, was fuel enough to power her through._

"_You're so easy, Santana Claus…" Brittany uttered huskily and mischievously as she tilted her head more to the side to give her wife better access to her neck, feeling a smile against the already marked flesh there._

Feeling a mix of awkwardness and sadness – not to mention a case of even hotter cheeks – Brittany decided to change the subject, but all she came up with was another memory of them. They were becoming harder to dodge these days.

"Remember when you gave me a shiner for Christmas?" The blonde asked, looking down at her feet but unable to fight a sly grin.

Santana dropped her jaw in disbelief. She knew what the blonde was talking about. "I did _not_," she replied in a huff, a bit louder than the voice level they were keeping for Zoey. So, she repeated lower, but still in a huff as her gaze went from Brittany to the sofa and locked back on the dancer, "I did not. If I remember correctly _you_ were the one who wanted a tree, and it's not my fault you couldn't handle your end."

"Well, if _someone_ hadn't refused to pay the kid the forty dollars to deliver the tree directly to our living room none of that would have happened," Brittany countered playfully, holding the brunette's stare.

"Thirty dollars to carry a tree for _half_ a block? Yeah, I don't think so. Go rip off another sucker," Santana said smugly, crossing her arms across her chest. She was still a sophomore in college, and Brittany was temping and trying to land a permanent dance gig: money was tight. Her parents supported her, and Brittany's always helped their daughter when they could, but Martin and Nina always made it absolutely clear that their money was their money, and Santana had to work to have hers. And she agreed with them and was also thankful for the way they raised her. She valued her dollar.

Zoey approached them in her green sheep-filled flannel pajamas and with Poppy on her heels. The movie had finally ended.

"Hi, Mommy," Zoey greeted Brittany with a smile as she put her arms up to be picked up, which the dancer promptly obliged.

"Hey, sweetie," Brittany replied softly, matching their daughter's smile and placing a kiss on her brown hair. "Hi there, Poppy," she added cheerfully, looking down at the dog who wagged her tail upon hearing her name. "How was your movie?" The blonde enquired, shifting her gaze back to their little girl's big blue eyes as Santana watched them with adoration.

"Awesome!" Zoey said a bit too loudly, wrapping her small arms tightly around her mommy's neck.

"Great!" Brittany replied pleased, returning her eyes to Santana. "It would be worth every penny if it meant we wouldn't have to carry a Christmas tree up _eighteen_ flights of stairs," the blue-eyed woman said, picking up where they left off in the conversation. _She always did do that_, the brunette thought.

"Well, that wasn't my plan. The plan was to take the elevator, nice and easy, but _someone_ decided to pick out the biggest tree on the lot despite the fact that our first apartment together was the size of a shoe box," Santana shot back without missing a beat, unable to keep an amused grin off her face as she uncrossed her arms.

"Well, we would have been fine if _you_," Brittany said with a wide grin, dropping the whole 'someone' charade, "didn't feel the need to stop abruptly in the middle of the stairs while we were carrying it."

"I did say 'turn'."

"There was no room left _to_ turn."

Zoey attentively watched them back and forth with a grin on her pretty pink lips.

"Well, I still don't know why you had the _trunk_ of the tree to your _face_ level," Santana said animatedly, talking profusely with her hands as amusement still rushed through her brain.

"I told you I was trying to _turn_ as you told me to," Brittany explained matter-of-factly, also still amused whilst holding Zoey against her hip.

They locked eyes for a moment and burst out into laughter. That Christmas had been fun, to say the least. Their daughter joined in the laughter just to not be out of the loop.

Zoey thought for a moment about what she had just heard and couldn't help but wonder. "Where was I?" She asked softly, not remembering any of that despite wishing she did. Sounded like fun and she instantly felt sad for not remembering, or not being there, whatever the case might be. "I don't remember that," she added innocently, looking from her Mommy to her Mama.

"You haven't been born yet, Zo," Brittany replied with a smile, still also sort of chuckling from before.

"It was many years ago, kiddo," Santana reinforced in the same fashion as the chuckling Brittany.

A flash of disappointment crossed the little girl's face. "I wish I was," Zoey said lowly, wearing her Mommy's trademark pout.

"We wish, too, baby," Brittany replied soothingly, holding the girl closer against her body as Santana stepped closer to run a comforting hand up and down their kid's back.

A moment of silence fell upon them as they pondered about what had just happened. It broke both women's heart to presence an ounce of sadness in their daughter's demeanor, however fleeting or inconsequential it might have been.

Brittany broke the silence when she said, "I think it's time for us to go, huh, Z?"

"I'll walk you guys," Santana offered simply, retracting her hand from the kid's back.

After Brittany took one step forward, Zoey announced jollier, "My drawings." And she stirred on the blonde's lap to be put down, which Brittany complied with. "Mama and I were colouring earlier," she added with a smile, looking from Brittany to Santana before directing her slipper-clad feet to the coffee table that had crayons and paper spread all over it.

Brittany and Santana exchanged a smile before the brunette said softly, "I'll help her out."

"Alright," the dancer replied, taking the time to wander around the living room for a bit.

She looked sideways and watched Santana kneeling on the silk Persian rug beside their daughter by the coffee table as they gathered up the drawings. Poppy looked at them from her sitting position next to Santana. On the sofa Brittany could see a white fleece blanket and a pillow covered by a big smiley monkey case, it made her smile as she pictured Zoey lying there all cozy and happy watching her movie. The dancer moved forward towards the front of the room and stopped near the corner to examine some picture frames that sat on top of the closed grand piano. It surprised her to see them because Mrs. Lopez only ever kept a vase with fresh flowers or some bowl with decorated balls on top of the shiny black surface. There were several pictures of Zoey – some that she even had been present while Santana took them – some of Quinn, Rachel and Jimmy that she didn't remember, which probably meant they were new and she didn't even want to think how badly she wished to have been there, too… A couple of Maggie and her family, Danes, one of Richard… Among them all there was only one of her – Zoey's birthday, cake time – and that most certainly stung the most, but she was at least satisfied to still be a part of her ex's universe, no matter how small her part had been reduced to. Her frown turned a bit upside down, though when she spotted the framed photo she had given Santana her first day back home: Mr. and Mrs. Lopez holding baby Zoey. It was front and center and the fact brightened up things and gave Brittany some perspective and heart back.

Santana watched Brittany's back near the piano from the corner of her eye and she knew the dancer was studying the pictures. Sometimes she wished she hadn't given up the piano. She actually enjoyed the private lessons when she was a kid and it made her parents very proud. Santana loved the undivided, full attention she always received when she got to play something for Martin and Nina. But as she got older and started to realize that her parents weren't exactly heroes as she thought, that they had their flaws, their _many _flaws, she quit the piano. It was meant to hurt them. Deliberately. She didn't have many other ways of accomplishing that, so she did strike where she knew it would hurt. After all, they hurt her first… it was only fair to hurt them back. Whatever way possible. The doctor regrets that now. She can still play a little, but that is totally not the point.

"All done, Mommy," Zoey proclaimed with a bunch of paper sheets folded in her hand, shaking both women from their thoughts.

"Ok, let's bounce then, baby," Brittany said, mustering up some cheerfulness as she turned around.

"I'll walk you ladies out," Santana replied, mustering up some cheerfulness as she closed the crayons' little duffel bag after she finished picking them up and putting them inside it.

The three, plus Poppy, started their walk towards the foyer in easy silence and upon arriving Zoey said, "My bike, too." And she flashed them a manipulative, sheepish smile. The kid was a fast learner.

Brittany shook her head but smiled at their daughter's antics. "No, Zoey, you won't need it. It's too cold outside and I've told you there's no riding inside doors," the dancer said with little resolve.

"But Mama took me riding yesterday morning while she ran," the little girl replied meekly, batting her eyelashes.

It was Santana's turn to flash Brittany a sheepish smile as she shrugged.

"She did, didn't she?" Brittany rhetorically asked and even though she wanted to appear stern her smile betrayed her. "Well, she's definitely spoiling you," she added uncontrollably softer, holding brown orbs with unwilling adoration.

"You took me, too. Remember? Last week when we went to Grandma and Grandpa's," Zoey said innocently, looking up at her with big blue eyes.

"She did, huh?" Santana said with a huge grin plastered on her face. It was _her_ turn to be smug. She certainly loved their kid to death. "How curious…"

"And Aunt Ally –" Zoey began again, not knowing when to stop before Brittany did that for her.

"Ok, fine. Clearly we _all _spoil you too much, young lady," the dancer stated playfully, cutting their daughter off and matching Santana's grin as she looked down at a beaming Zoey.

"I'll go get it," Santana said with a more controlled smile. "I think it's in the laundry room. Do you want to change her first?" She added after taking a step towards her destination but coming to a halt.

"Nah, I'll do it back home," Brittany replied evenly.

"Alright. Her coat and Uggs are in the coat closet," Santana informed as she resumed her walk towards the laundry room with Poppy by her heels. The doctor didn't know why – she always treated the dog curtly – but Pops had become extremely infatuated with her.

When the brunette came back, carrying the pink bike with her good arm – the stitches were still there in her forearm, thank God they would be coming off before New Year's Eve – Zoey was already in her comfy boots and Brittany was closing up the girl's pink parka over the pajamas.

"All bundled up," Brittany announced in a theatrical voice, kissing the kid's forehead as Santana reached them with a smile at the cute scene.

"Ready for the North Pole, huh, bug?" Santana joked as she placed the bike down and received a puzzled look from Zoey.

Brittany only smiled as she took her own black overcoat from the foyer's closet and also took the opportunity to grab Santana's long navy-blue pea coat and tossed it the brunette's way.

Santana shed her white, fluffy robe, revealing plaid pajamas underneath and put on her pea coat. "Grab my boots, too, please, B," the brown-eyed woman asked and Brittany promptly obliged, passing over the pair of boots that were identical to Zoey's, only bigger.

Quickly slipping them on, Santana said as Zoey had mounted the bike and pretended to be riding in place, "Thanks."

Looking from Santana's boots-clad feet to Zoey's, Brittany uttered sweetly, "Aww… how adorable!" The remark earned her an eye-roll from Santana and a toothy smile from Zoey. "I want one two," she added without missing a beat.

"Yeah, well… let's get a move on, women," the doctor said, trying to sound exasperated but failing miserably at it. "And you stay here. It's cold out," she added, gaze directed at Poppy as Zoey decided to kneel down to kiss her dear pet goodbye. The kid always hated leaving her behind.

They made their way outside and Santana took the car keys from Brittany as she headed to the blonde's silver Focus on the driveway to place the bike she was yet again carrying into the trunk. Turning the alarm off with a click of the button Santana proceeded to open up the boot and place the bike and drawings inside. When she was closing the trunk the brunette felt something hit the back of her pea coat with force. She knew quite well what it had been: a snowball. Which only meant one thing: it was on. _So_ on. Whoever the culprit may be.

Turning around to face Brittany and Zoey standing side to side with impish grins on their pretty faces, Santana asked eerily calm as she arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow, "So, who just signed their death sentence?"

Zoey wasn't exactly sure what her Mama had meant, but she giggled nonetheless and merely pointed sideways at her Mommy, because she knew what the blonde had done only meant trouble.

Brittany gasped and said playfully, looking down at the little girl, "You little tattletale!" And then she bent over and tickled Zoey, who had her parka's furry hood over her head as she chuckled and giggled more profusely.

Santana, who had been watching them with amusement while furtively preparing a fat snowball of her own, said in a mock ominous tone, "I hope you are ready to face the consequences of your action, Pierce."

Next thing the brunette knew Brittany was darting to her left but with no avail: the snowball hit her hard on the right side. Both women and Zoey started running through the front yard's grass, which was then covered by snow, throwing snowballs at each other and laughing out loud like they were _all_ four-year olds.

Santana grabbed Zoey to use her as a shield against Brittany's attack, who cried out that that was not fair, only to hear a reply that they had talked about their different approaches concerning the word earlier on. Their little girl wiggled out of her Mama's grip and Brittany felt eager and let herself get carried away by her opening, throwing a fast ball at the unprepared doctor that crashed hard against Santana's face. The brown-eyed woman's jaw dropped as she slowly and dramatically wiped the liquid from her red face and shook the water off her hand with a repetitive motion.

Brittany winced remorsefully, placing her hand over her mouth in disbelief and shock. "I'm so sorry, San. I – I didn't mean to… I got carried away and… and I wasn't even aiming at your face, I swear," the dancer tried to explain apologetically while both women heard Zoey laughing her little ass off at what had just transpired.

Santana locked brown eyes on clear blue ones with a dead serious expression, but it soon morphed into an up-to-no-good one. She broke into running after Brittany, who ran away from her in circles with all her might. After a while of chase the brunette finally tackled the dancer. Brittany's tall body was trapped between Santana's thighs as she straddled her and with one strong hand the brunette pinned down long arms above the blonde's head by the wrists. The action sent Brittany into a fit of chuckles.

"You think that's funny, huh?" Santana asked calmly, looking down at Brittany with a glint in her eyes. The blonde nodded through chuckling while Zoey jumped up and down on the background, totally psyched. "And how funny do you think this is?" The brown-eyed woman added in question, grabbing a handful of snow with her free hand and letting it hover above the dancer's head.

Brittany squealed as an icy cold drop hit her face. "Please, San, don't…" she pleaded, squirming under Santana's weight and still laughing animatedly.

"What do you think, Zo?" Santana asked, looking back at their daughter with a devilish grin on her face. "Should I give her a snow facial?" She added wickedly, shifting her gaze back to the blonde.

More than the battle itself they found themselves in, Brittany's breath was taken away by the sight of Santana's smile and her dimple, which was so more prominent on the doctor's left cheek. She missed that dimple. More than she had imagined. These days she wasn't rewarded as much with the sight of it. Not as much as she would like to, anyway.

"Yes!" Zoey all but screamed, jumping higher and more energetically in place.

"Zoey!" Brittany chastised playfully through laughter and squealed after another drop whilst squirming with more force.

All the heavy squirming caused, uh, _friction_ and all of the sudden both women were very much aware of their compromising position. Brittany's laughter immediately died down in her throat as Santana held her stare with warm dark chocolate eyes. Those piercing blue eyes that the brunette was so much fond of seemed like they were calling her and all Santana felt like doing was leaning down, pressing her body flush against Brittany's and finally capture those even pinker lips due to the cold weather with her own. _My kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder_… and God only knows _what_ for one on her mouth! Right there she fully understood those words.

Brittany must have felt the same way because Santana saw something familiar crossing through her eyes and, seconds later, the dancer was leaning upwards because Santana had long ago relinquished hold of pale hands and arms. Both could see their visible breaths due to the cold weather hitting on the other's face ever so gently, much like a caress. All the doctor had to do was lean down the rest of the space and meet Brittany halfway. Santana felt tempted to tuck a strand of golden hair behind the dancer's ear. She even let her hand travel with a mind of its own towards it, like Brittany's hair had some strange gravitational force, but before she could do so Santana pulled her hand back. Exactly like someone who had been burned before… because she had been. _Badly._ While Santana was lost in thought Brittany realized the unconscious movement her body had made and let it fall back against the ground with a thud as a subtle frustrated sigh left her mouth. _How something so, so very right could be deemed so wrong?_ The blonde pondered dejectedly.

Throwing the snow back to the ground, Santana stood up quickly and tried to ignore her rapid heartbeats and the amazing sensation running to her core. Brittany rose to her feet feeling exactly the same. Unbeknownst to one another.

Santana killed the palpable tension by picking up Zoey with a flourish that earned her a giggle and headed towards Brittany's car, who got the message and started following with her head hanging low.

"We're done with the snowball fight?" Zoey asked with disappointment all over her tone, looking into her Mama's eyes.

"I think we've had enough for today, mi hija," Santana replied evenly and the blonde behind her couldn't ignore the hidden intonation. Seeing the kid's copycat pout, the brunette added with an empathetic smile before kissing Zoey's rosy cheek, "We'll have another next time." Their little girl smiled back with satisfaction. She never got tired of spending time together. Just the three of them.

After placing Zoey in the car seat, buckling her up properly, saying their mushy goodbyes and closing the door, Santana walked over to Brittany, who stood by the front of the vehicle still very much caught up in their shared moment minutes ago.

"Will you bring her over on Christmas Day or should I pick her up?" Santana asked casually as she leaned on the side of the front of the car beside Brittany, trying to ignore the fact that she also was still very much caught up on their previous moment.

"I'll bring her," Brittany replied softly, instinctively looking sideways in search of the brunette's eyes.

"Ok," Santana drawled out, pushing herself off of the car and taking a step towards her front door. "Drive safe, Brittany," she added, consciously using the blonde's full name to create some distance after having let her guard down more than she should have. _One step forward, two steps back…_

"Will you really not come?" The dancer asked barely above a whisper, making Santana come to a gracious halt and stare at Brittany in the eye with a pointed look.

The look was answer enough. The blue-eyed woman sighed.

"My aunts and uncles and cousins won't be coming in this year," Brittany said tentatively, making it sound like that was a definitive plus with her tone. And in some regards it was. Santana couldn't stand Harry and his son or Brittany's other cousin, Barbara. She liked Barbara's sister, Joanna, though. And Harry's wife, Lucinda, wasn't intolerable either.

"You make it sound like that's a plus," Santana countered aloofly, taking the step back towards the blonde whilst crossing her arms defensively.

"We've never liked most of them," Brittany said with a hint of a smile. The intimate nature of the pronoun tugged on both of their heartstrings, but it rubbed the brunette the wrong way as well. She brushed it off, though. Santana had been trying not to be confrontational this whole time during their strangling situation, and to her regular standards she was succeeding. Old Santana – pre-Zoey and pre-Brittany (to some extent) – would have exploded ages ago.

"In this case I would prefer to have them there. Their presence would actually be on the pro side of the list on whether I should or shouldn't attend. You know, more buffers," the brown-eyed doctor said with a tinge of petulance.

"And if I had said that they were coming you would say that you'd prefer it they didn't. They would definitely be on the con side. You know, too crowded or too annoying," Brittany shot back knowingly, holding Santana's stare with a smug little grin on her lips.

_She does know me too well_, Santana thought. Unwillingly smiling, the brunette said, "I won't say you're right… but I won't say you're wrong either." She could never lie. Not to Brittany.

Brittany shook her head repeatedly as her grin became wider.

"Ally's leaving to college after Christmas," Brittany stated matter-of-factly. "I'm sure she told you this already but she would love for you to come. Say goodbye and all," she added, feeling the need to try once more. _If at first you don't succeed, try again_. And again, and again, and again; they would have added if they knew Santana.

"I know, and we already had coffee a couple of days ago to say goodbye."

"It was worth a try…"

"Drive safe, Britt," Santana said with a weak smile, resuming her walk back to her house. _Damn it_, she thought. _Another slip. _"The roads are very icy these days," she couldn't help but add.

After a couple of strained goodbyes and half-hearted waves, Brittany and Zoey and Santana went about their way.

* * *

><p>"Do you think she will like it?" Jenna hopefully asked Paula, holding up an open rectangular maroon velvety box as they sat having lunch at Wal-Mart's break room.<p>

Eyeing a yellow gold tennis bracelet inside the box, Paula put down her sandwich and replied evenly, "Yeah, I'm sure she will _love_ it but, Jenna… that looks really expensive. It must have cost you a kidney or something."

"I had some savings…" Jenna shrugged nonchalantly, placing the box on top of the table they were having lunch. Paula shot her a probing look and the green-eyed woman felt the need to add, "I just wanted to, you know, give her something nice. Something that stood out, something Brittany would remember."

Paula shook her head with a tight-lipped smile as Jenna took a bite of her own sandwich. "Just a wild guess…" the chubby brunette quipped, looking at her friend in the eye, "Does this have anything to do with Brittany's ex?"

Jenna took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as Paula kept watching her whilst taking a sip of her bottled juice. "I don't know…" the petite blonde muttered, but she knew her friend wasn't buying it. "Yeah, I guess the two _may_ be related…" she trailed on, averting her gaze for a while. "Santana just –" Jenna added but decided to rephrase with a shake of her head, "She is a doctor, you know... Successful, young; well, younger than me, good-looking... Have you seen her house? The woman is clearly rich and I… and I don't want –"

"Ok, I'm going to stop you right there," Paula cut the blonde off with a resolute tone. "I thought we talked about insecurity and how unattractive that is," she added with a playful smile. "Remember me and Dwight?" The brunette said and Jenna nodded, getting the other woman's point. "Yeah, that's what I mean."

"I can't help it sometimes, ok?" Jenna said dejectedly, pushing her sandwich's plate away from her. Her appetite was definitely gone. "Brittany mentioned something about her and Santana deciding that they weren't exchanging presents this year, but when we were hiding Zoey's presents and the others I saw one with Santana's name on the tag... And then, my mind started to work overtime and I knew that if Brittany was giving one to Santana she must have picked up something for Brittany as well, and I got nervous and bought the bracelet," she babbled on without catching a breath.

"I get that, sweetie, but didn't you tell me that you and Brittany finally talked and that you were ok with everything and felt reassured that she really loved you?"

"Yes, but –"

"No, buts… You're gone drive yourself crazy otherwise." Small pause. "This is not a competition. Remember that, Jenna. _You_ are the one who has the girl. You win."

"You're right…"

"And didn't you tell me Santana has a new lady friend?" Paula asked with a smirk, done with her sandwich as well.

"Yes, _Riley_. Thank God for small favours," Jenna quipped with a smile and Paula chuckled.

"See, things are improving," the brunette woman said cheerfully. "You're certain Brittany loves you and her ex is moving on. Don't you agree with me?"

Yes, those were indeed Jenna's perceptions. Whether they were product of tunnel vision or not that was something to be debated. _Fools in love…_ So, the blonde's smile got wider and she retrieved her fancy present from the lunch table with satisfaction.

* * *

><p>Christmas Eve came faster than anyone imagined. Santana stood in front of her bathroom's mirror putting the final touches on her flawless light makeup and adjusting her long cascade of dark hair. She decided to wear a boyfriend cardigan on top of a striped shirt, dark wash skinny jeans and a pair of sexy high-heeled, knee-length boots. Casual but nice, the last thing she wanted was to keep brushing off advances of <em>questionable<em> men at Charlie's.

She took a few steps back to admire her work on the mirror with more range. Happy with the end result Santana went back into her room, plopping down on her bed to turn the laptop off. There was a picture of Zoey riding her pink bike on the screen, which brought a distinct smile to the brunette's face. She had been going through photos earlier to select some to develop. The sight of her adorable kid on the screen made her want to look at more photos, so she started pressing the forward arrow and smiling more and more as the pictures rotated. It must have reached the end of the photos because one of Brittany holding a puppy Poppy popped on her screen. A photograph that she was sure she had deleted many moons ago. _You're such a sucker, Lopez_; came the voice in her head. Again, it sounded strangely like Coach Sylvester. Santana took the time to study the image, study it with the kind of dedication and worship that only Brittany could get out of her – if you didn't count Zoey, obviously. Shaking her head at the pathetic levels of weakness her love for Brittany took her, Santana closed the laptop without bothering to turn it off. Thinking about the dancer like that always managed to rile her up. Wouldn't she ever be able to shake the blonde? So, Santana forced herself to think of Riley. She needed the ginger's help to continue taking steps forward. _Away_ from Brittany. For everyone's sakes. Too bad the green-eyed woman had gone to Alaska for Christmas to spend it with her father and her six brothers. Riley invited her over but it was too soon and her huge family was extra intimidating. She had called only once when the ginger and her sister-in-law went to main land to shop, because the island her dad lived on had no cell reception and phone connections were a rarity due to weather issues at this time of year. Santana sighed as her mind worked overdrive. She missed Riley at some capacity.

Her musings were stopped when she heard her bell ringing. _Who the…_ The thought trailed off in the brunette's mind. Rubbing her lips together one more time to even out the lip gloss, Santana got up from bed and made her way downstairs. On her walk towards the front door, Poppy, who had been lying on the doctor's bedroom's hardwood floor, decided to join her beloved owner.

Reaching the double doors with the dog hot on her heels, Santana opened it up and gasped. "What are you doing here?" She asked after a second of disbelief, her face dead blank.

"Wow, nice to see you, too, S, and Merry Christmas," Quinn quipped in her double-breasted ivory wool overcoat and big red purse slung over her shoulder as Rachel appeared behind her with a wide smile on her face. "Smile a little wider, won't you?" The petite blonde joked with a chuckle, taking in her friend's appearance and baffled behaviour.

"Sorry… Merry Christmas, Q," Santana said animatedly, shaking her head repeatedly to come to her senses as she wrapped the blonde in a hug. "I'm just surprised to see you guys."

"Merry Christmas, Santana," Rachel piped in as both women locked eyes whilst Santana hugged Quinn.

"Merry Christmas, Berry," the brunette doctor replied uncharacteristically warm as Quinn let her out of the hug and Rachel took her place. "I thought you guys were going down to Florida to spend the holiday with Judy," she added in earnest, unwrapping the petite theater woman as Jimmy came into view balancing three pieces of luggage on his hands and shoulders. "Jimmy! You, too?" Santana cried out a bit too enthusiastically for her liking as the British man approached the three ladies from the rental car. "I thought…" Santana trailed off in confusion.

"Yeah, well, Rachel and I decided to ditch Judy this year and Jimmy whined _so_ much about going to London that it was a no-brainer for him to join us," Quinn offered simply, tugging her coat closer to her body. The evening chilliness was at full force, the snow had given a small break, though.

"Come on in, guys… It's cold outside," Santana said unceremoniously, stepping away from the door to let the two women in. James stepped through the threshold seconds later and the brunette closed the door as Quinn and Rachel cooed at Poppy.

"Merry Christmas, San," Jimmy finally said with a bright smile, placing their luggage on the foyer's marble floor and hugging the even smaller woman next to his tall figure.

"You too, Jimmy!" Santana replied softly, matching his smile into the hug. "I can't believe you guys came," she added in a surprised tone, pulling back from the hug. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It was a last minute decision, really," Rachel said in her high-pitched tone, straightening her body as her wife remained bent over indulging Poppy's need for attention. "We didn't want to get your hopes up in case we didn't manage to find a flight."

"You people sure flatter yourselves a lot," Santana joked with a wide grin. "Judy must have been pissed with a last minute cancelation," she added with an easy laugh.

"That made the decision even more enjoyable," Quinn replied with a smirk. "Besides, she has my _perfect_ sister, my _perfect_ niece and my _perfect_ brother-in-law to keep her happy. She won't be missing _us_," she added honestly and a tad bitterly. Judy had come a long way when it came to Quinn and Rachel, but she still didn't completely approve them. Every so often she would make not-so-subtle remarks and comments whenever they visited or called.

Rachel placed a sympathizing hand on her wife's shoulder and received a sweet smile in return.

"What about your dads?" Santana asked, looking at Rachel.

"This year was the Fabrays' turn," Rachel explained and Quinn rolled her eyes. "My dads went on a musical cruise," she added with a jealous, tight-lipped smile.

"I don't doubt it," Santana quipped as her friends proceeded to removing their coats. The warmth inside began to be felt. "And I can't believe you turned your parents down," the brunette doctor added, shifting her gaze to Jimmy.

"Yeah, told them to sod off," James said with a lopsided smile and received a pointed look from Santana. "Ok, I told them an emergency surgery appeared out of nowhere," he added in a low tone, passing his coat over to the woman of the house followed by Quinn and Rachel.

Taking a gander at Rachel's reindeers Christmas sweater, Santana sighed, "Oh, Dwarf…"

"What?" Rachel asked with confusion, looking down at her sweater while Jimmy kneeled down to play with Poppy and Quinn smiled at Santana's antics.

"Nothing," Santana replied with amusement, going to the foyer's coat closet to hang the coats inside.

"You better back off of my wife, Lopez," Quinn stated playfully as she watched Santana's back by the closet. Rachel laced their arms.

"I said 'nothing', didn't I?" Santana replied matter-of-factly, looking over her should at the blonde.

"So, were you on your way out to Puck's bar?" Quinn asked casually as Santana turned around after closing the coat closet.

"I never –" the brunette doctor began but amended, "Who…" Santana trailed on, furrowing her eyebrows at the blonde.

Quinn merely directed her gaze down at Jimmy, who still played with Poppy on the floor. Feeling eyes on him, the tall man looked up.

"What? I didn't know it was some sort of secret," Jimmy said evenly, cupping the dog's head with both hands affectionately. "Right, Pops?" He added playfully, redirecting his gaze to the pet.

"That means you _really_ didn't accept Brittany's offer, huh?" Rachel asked with a tinge of exasperation as she stood by Quinn's side. "Stubborn," the diva mumbled in sing-song voice for hers and her wife's ears alone. She knew better than to poke Satan with a short stick.

Shaking her head repeatedly, Santana trailed on with frustration just like seconds ago, "Who…" And her eyes began to roam around the room, falling on an unsuspecting James.

Feeling eyes again on him, Jimmy huffed, "Don't look at me this time."

"Britt…" Quinn trailed on matter-of-factly, answering her friend's sort of implicit question.

"You all realize we talk _way_ too much amongst ourselves, right?" Santana rhetorically asked, crossing her arms across her chest.

"I think it's exceedingly healthy to share personal information with friends. Matter of fact it is the sole way –" Rachel began one of her speeches but was cut off by an impatient Santana.

"Yada, yada, yada…" the brown-eyed woman interjected, rolling her eyes. "Get over yourself, Man Hands," she added with bite.

"Zoey's coming tomorrow, right?" Quinn asked with a tender smile, trying to brighten up the mood. Their goddaughter always brought smiles to anyone's lips. Santana shot her a look and before the feisty brunette had the chance to ask, Quinn amended with a smug grin, "Before you ask, _you_ told me that, San."

"Yes, she's coming," Santana replied with an unconscious smile. "And we _really_ do talk too much," she added in quip, receiving laughs from all her friends.

"So, are we just going to stand here in the foyer, ungracious hostess?" Jimmy quipped playfully, rising to his feet with a smile.

"Do you guys want to go to Puck's bar or stay in?" Santana asked evenly, uncrossing her arms.

"I vote for staying in," the hazel-eyed man replied without skipping a beat. "I don't like the guy," he added scornfully.

"You don't even know him, doofus," the brunette doctor countered nonchalantly.

"I don't feel like going to a bar," Rachel said honestly.

"Q?" Santana asked, shifting her gaze to the blonde.

"I don't care either way," Quinn replied offhandedly.

"Guess, we're staying in, then," Santana proclaimed with an apathetic shrug and Jimmy smiled wider. She really didn't care either. Truth was, she was happy to be with her friends; no matter where. "Go grab yourselves a guest room. Meet you back in the kitchen," she added, and her friends began to grab their luggage and head upstairs. "You should know I don't have a feast or any supper prepared. We'll have to figure something out," Santana called out to their ascending figures as she walked to the kitchen.

"It's fine," came Quinn's voice.

"I'm calling the magnolia guest bedroom," came Jimmy's giddy voice from afar.

"_We_ are the ones who always stay in the magnolia bedroom, James," came Rachel's annoying voice.

Shaking her head with amusement, Santana continued her walk towards the kitchen.

In no time they were all reunited once again in the house's kitchen. Jimmy leaned on the side of the kitchen's island, propped up by his elbows; Rachel sat on one of the island's stools; Santana stood behind another stool with her hands on its back as Quinn neared the fridge.

"So, what are we to do?" The hazel-eyed man asked casually.

"We could order some take-out," Rachel offered evenly.

"I think you've forgotten we're in Lima, Berry, _not_ New York. I doubt they'll deliver anything on Christmas Eve," Santana said in her usual assertive tone.

"It's fine. Let's see what you've got here," Quinn said calmly, turning around to the fridge's double doors and opening both. The stainless steel doors were almost completely covered up with Zoey's drawings. "I think we can hustle up some nice pizzas. You have lots of potential toppings here and, you know, homemade pizza dough is –"

James cut her off promptly, finishing her sentence, "…your specialty. Yeah, yeah, we _all_ know that by now, Quinnie." And he flashed her an impish smile.

"Continue being _cute_ and you'll go without eating," the petite blonde warned with narrowed eyes, pointing a finger at the man.

Santana and Rachel smiled as Jimmy contained himself from making an eating joke. Instead, he replied with a meek smile, "Got it..." Santana shot him a challenging look that clearly read 'chicken shit'. So, he added under his breath, but loud enough for the brunette doctor to hear, "…Mom."

Both doctors exchanged a smile as Quinn inspected the fridge further, taking out stuff they would need.

"You know what we could use right now?" Quinn said, still taking out stuff from the fridge. "Some wine. Do you have any?" She added, landing her eyes on Santana.

"Do I have any?" Santana scoffed with a smirk. "You really have to ask, Q?"

"Guess not," Quinn shot back ironically, mirroring her friend's smirk.

They were all a little bit of winos. Once upon a better time, whenever Santana and Brittany, or Quinn and Rachel, would throw a casual dinner party for the two couples – only ladies allowed, Jimmy always pouted that he had to sit those dinners out – they would go through at least three bottles. Far more if they arrived at each other's homes earlier to chat whilst dinner was made.

"James Edward, why don't you be the gentleman I know you are and go fetch us some wine from the cellar?" Santana asked ceremoniously, shifting her gaze to the British man.

"Yeah, us hot mommas need our juice," Rachel chimed in, trying to be funny and laid back, which only earned her some out loud laughs from her friends. Even her wife couldn't contain herself. "What?" The diva asked indignantly, looking at each one of them.

"Please, honey, just don't," Quinn said through laughter.

"I'll be right back," Jimmy said as he went to do what he was asked, also with a smile still playing on his lips.

Before he could leave the kitchen, though, the tall man heard Santana casually say, "I think I'll call Puck to join us."

Stopping on his tracks, Jimmy took a few steps back and stubbornly piped in, "What? I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not? Nobody, not even Puck, should spend Christmas alone with a bunch of weirdos. I mean, it was fine when he had some _awesome_ company such as myself, but now it's just sad," Santana put it, ever-so-modestly.

"Really? Sad? That's a bit of an overstatement, don't you think?" Jimmy replied evenly, playing it down.

"You're just saying 'no' because you're being ridiculously jealous," the brunette doctor stated. "What do you guys think?" She added, redirecting her gaze to the married couple. "I should add that Puck have perfected the art of appletini making," Santana finished slyly with a smug grin.

"He's in," Quinn curtly said with a resolute nod.

"Without shadow of doubt," Rachel added with an identical nod.

"Guess you lost this one, my friend," Santana said with a victorious smile, turning her gaze back at the tall man. "Think of this as exercising your Christmas spirit," she joked.

"Fine, I'll be the bigger man," James said with an annoyed tone, shooting his friends a less than pleased look.

"You _are_ the bigger man," Santana replied with a smile, throwing her longtime friend a bone. "And your martini is still the best drink I've ever had," she added, and the man beamed.

Jimmy was about to say something when Quinn beat him to it, "Please, don't make another James Bond analogy starring yourself. You'll only lose this moment of coolness." He closed his mouth and obliged, leaving the kitchen as the ladies shared amused smiles.

"FedEx delivered the presents I sent you two in time?" Santana asked, making conversation as she stole an olive from the stuff Quinn had placed on the kitchen island. "It better have because I stood on that line for ages so you received them in time."

"We received them," Quinn replied evenly.

"And we loved them," Rachel sort of completed Quinn's sentence and they smiled sickeningly sweet at each other, making Santana roll her eyes.

"Did you get ours?" The hazel-eyed woman asked and Santana nodded her confirmation while chewing her olive. "We sent Zoey's along with Brittany's," she added as an afterthought. "Hope that's cool…"

"Cool is my middle name, sister," Santana joked lamely and they all laughed at her expense, including Santana. She really was in a better mood already.

* * *

><p>Jenna and Zoey sat on their living room sofa watching some TV as they waited for Brittany to finish getting ready so they could all head for the dancer's parents to enjoy their Christmas Eve.<p>

"So, Zoey, have you been a good girl? Think Santa's gonna bring you lots of presents?" Jenna asked with a smile, looking down at the kid sitting beside her.

"Yep," Zoey replied simply with a huge grin, certainly keen on the new topic of conversation.

"Yeah, I think so, too," the petite blonde said ceremoniously, putting an arm over the girl's shoulders.

They fell in comfortable silence for a couple of minutes and then Zoey's demeanor sort of changed. She seemed preoccupied and the green-eyed woman noticed.

"What's the matter, sweetie?" Jenna asked with a slight frown, looking down at the kid again.

"I shushed Mommy and Mama the other day…" Zoey trailed on with a concerned look on her pretty little face. "But I said sorry. Do you think Santa will be mad? Mommy said he wouldn't," she added hopeful.

"I think he won't mind this one time," Jenna said with a reassuring smile. "He knows you're not a naughty girl."

Zoey seemed pleased with that answer because her big blue eyes sparkled.

"Yeah, Mommy was naughty, though," Zoey deadpanned innocently with a mischievous grin on her lips as Brittany started walking into the living room, catching the end of their talk, "Mama said Santana Claus…" Zoey giggled at the word, she had truly loved it, "…won't be bringing any special presents for her this year." Apparently the movie wasn't the only thing the kid was watching intently that day.

Jenna caught Brittany's blush as she replied with confusion, "Oh, really? That's interesting…"

Recovering from the embarrassment, Brittany asked in an attempt to change the subject, "So, ladies, how do I look?"

Zoey turned around, noticing her Mommy's presence for the first time. The tall blonde wore a beautiful soft knitted white jumper dress that featured a fabulous cowl neck. The look was neatly finished off with a wide belt that marked her narrow waist perfectly, and black tights that made her legs seem longer than they already were. The high-heeled ankle boots on her feet made the outfit even hotter.

"Very pretty," the little girl stated in her long-sleeved navy and pink dress paired with cozy white tights.

"Beautiful, honey," Jenna said softly, locking eyes with her wife and offering her a sweet smile.

As Zoey got distracted by the TV commercial, Brittany mouthed silently the word "presents" to the woman on the sofa. And then, the dancer made a motion that indicated that she was closing a car's trunk. Jenna smiled wider at her wife's adorable antics and simply nodded her head before rising to her feet and walking towards Brittany.

"Before we go I wanted to give you something," Jenna said softly, approaching the blonde and walking past her into the kitchen area.

"We'll do presents later," Brittany replied in the same tone, her artificially curled hair bouncing against her shoulders as she turned around to watch her wife walk towards one of the kitchen's cabinets.

"I know, but I want to give you this one now," the green-eyed woman countered, fighting a smile as she grabbed a rectangular paper-wrapped present from inside the upper cabinet. "I hid here so you couldn't find it," she added proudly, closing the cabinet with the present in hand. "Merry Christmas, Brittany," Jenna finished with excitement, handing the taller blonde the object and laying a lingering kiss on her wife's lips.

"Thanks, Jenna!"

"Go on, open it!"

"Alright," Brittany replied with a giddy look on her face as she unwrapped the paper and uncovered a rectangular maroon velvety box. She shot Jenna a short look before opening it up to discover a classy tennis bracelet. "Jenna, it's beautiful," the dancer said, looking up at her smiling wife again. "But it looks expensive, honey… You shouldn't have. We never –"

Jenna interrupted her mid-sentence and stated with confidence, "Shh, don't worry about that." And the petite blonde went on to take the bracelet out of the box and put it on Brittany's wrist.

The action sent the blue-eyed woman into another memory, the memory of her and Santana when they bought matching bracelets as a pledge of eternal friendship back in high school. The thought brought a sweet smile to her face that Jenna mistook as result of her own actions. Brittany shook the thought. What she was doing wasn't fair at all. She promised herself that she would work hard. Those thoughts definitely didn't fall into that particular category. She had been slipping more and more lately.

"I wanted to give you something nicer this year," Jenna added softly, closing the bracelet around the pale wrist of the taller blonde while Zoey still sat on the sofa, captivated by whatever program had started.

"Well, it really is beautiful. I love it. Now I feel bad for getting you a comfortable new pair of loafers for work," Brittany replied with a sheepishly grin and then added without skipping a beat, "And for just spoiling the surprise by telling you what I got you." She shook her head in self-reproach.

"I'm sure I'll love whatever you bought me, honey," Jenna stated lightly with a smile, sealing the statement with a long kiss.

"Ok, we should go now. My parents must be anxious already."

"Let's."

Moving into the living room, Brittany asked her daughter animatedly, "Ready to go to Grandpa and Grandma's, Z?" To which the little girl replied with a nod, putting her arms up to be picked up. The TV had been making her sleepy. "Alright, let's get going."

* * *

><p>Christmas Eve at Santana's was going rather well. After Santana called Puck, the man arrived shortly after. He had declined the offer at first but didn't need much push to cave. Puck arrived with an announcement that he had brought a case of booze, to which Quinn remarked that some things really never change. Their reunion was a bit awkward at first, before everyone took their time to familiarize with one another. Jimmy, of course, initially gave a hard time to the other guy. A favour which Puck didn't feel shy about returning, obviously. At one time the bar owner made a quip about the British man's carefully constructed spiky hair, and Rachel made sure to argue that Puck didn't have much ground to make fun of him since they all very much knew about his mohawk days. Both guys went on with it for a while longer as they all yapped away, ate pizzas and filled on booze; enjoying a casual, laid-back holiday in the cozy kitchen that felt pleasantly warm by the ever presence of a pie in the oven. After Santana mischievously asked whether she should bring them a ruler to measure, compare and contrast their dicks, Jimmy and Puck loosened up; falling into civil, nice chatter about sports and other <em>guy stuff<em>.

Yes, Christmas Eve was going better than Santana initially thought it would be. Her friends, _and Puck_, were a nice distraction. Even though, every once in a while, her mind couldn't help but drift off to a certain blue-eyed dancer and their perfect offspring. _Habits_…

* * *

><p>"So, Jenna, how were Christmas sales this year?" Rob asked with interest, putting some food in his mouth as the rest of the family also sat at the table with him.<p>

"They were good. Better than last year," Jenna informed casually in her grey trousers and orange blouse as Ally entertained Zoey with funny faces from the other side of the table.

"Well, it's good to know that folks aren't letting the bad economy prevent them from shopping their little hearts out," the older man quipped with a lopsided smile.

"Dad…" Brittany warned lightheartedly with a pointed look as she stopped cutting some of Zoey's meat on the kid's plate.

"What? It's only the truth," Rob replied just as lightheartedly, taking a sip from his tall glass of beer. "Now, will you pass me the salt, pumpkin?" He added in question to his first born with a sweet smile on his face, and Brittany obliged.

Eyeing her husband dump a fair amount of salt into his food, Annie scolded, "Robert, that's too much! The food is salty enough as it is."

"You know me, honey… I like to live a little. Carpe diem, or whatever they call it," the sandy blond man replied, stopping with the salt after surveying his wife's less than amused expression.

"Yeah, well, _carpe diem_ won't contain your cholesterol and blood pressure from sky rocketing," Annie warned before taking a sip of her wine. "Speaking of which, you should schedule a check-up one of these days."

"Nah, there's no need," Rob countered dismissively. "Besides, I don't like doctors. Aside from Santana and James, of course," he added with a smile and Zoey's eyes lit up at the mention of the name, even though she had been feeling sleep come for a long time.

"Mama saves 'lifes'," Zoey chimed in with the only knowledge she possessed on the profession, flashing everyone on the table a proud smile and Brittany might as well have melted at the sight. The dancer was trying hard, but Santana-related thoughts had been seeping through her mind the whole evening.

"She certainly does, sweetie," Annie said tenderly, locking eyes with her granddaughter.

Silence fell upon them for a while, and Ally felt like she couldn't stop herself anymore.

"Look, I really like you, Jenna and I mean no offense with this," the teenager said evenly, looking at her sister-in-law in the eye. "But…" Ally was about to add but felt her sister's intense gaze on her. Looking briefly at Zoey, she decided to amend, "…you-know-who should be here right now. It's just not right. She has been coming to Christmas with us for as long as I can remember. She shouldn't be alone."

"Allison…" Annie warned her youngest daughter, shooting her a peculiar look.

Looking down at her oblivious daughter, Brittany turned her gaze back at her sister. She was being extremely unfair. "Mom asked. You asked. _I_ asked, ok? I practically _begged_. You know how she is…" Brittany said evenly, trying to keep her voice neutral not to tip her perceptive kid as she held Ally's stare. "Do you think this is easy for me?" She added barely above a whisper and Jenna started to feel more awkward by the second.

"Girls…" It was Rob's time to issue a soft warning.

"No, Brittany, I know it isn't, but –" Allison tenderly said in earnest and Brittany could see the softness in her kid sister's eyes, but the teenager looked down briefly at her almost finished plate of food, shook her head and decided to change gears, "You know what? Never mind. I'm going upstairs to my room… I promised Lily I'd phone to save her from her relatives for a bit. Call me when dessert is out, please."

Ally flashed Brittany a sympathetic smile before heading to her room.

"Someone is deciding to call it a night," Annie said softly, trying to diffuse the tension as she pointed at Zoey.

Brittany looked sideways at her daughter and could see her heavy eyelids going down and barely managing to go up again. It brought a smile to her face as she proceeded to take Zoey from her chair and cuddle the girl in her loving arms. She chanced a glance at Jenna, who seemed to be holding up well together after Ally's impromptu ambush.

"I think it's safe to bring in the presents now," Brittany said softly in a somewhat hushed tone to not wake the sleeping kid in her arms.

"I'll bring them in from the car," Jenna announced with a reassuring smile meant for her wife.

"Thanks, Jenna," the dancer replied.

"And I'll work on Santa's cookies and milk. Make sure to leave enough teeth marks," Rob said with a broad smile whilst getting up from the table.

"Don't spoil your appetite. I'm bringing over the dessert in a moment," Annie informed, matching her husband's smile as he walked away.

Brittany had been watching her daughter's, _their_ daughter's sleeping face the whole time. Deep in thought, simply mesmerized by her perfect little features… Dropping an adoration-filled feather kiss on Zoey's forehead, Brittany looked up and caught her mom staring at them. They locked blue eyes for a short while and exchanged a small, bittersweet, tight-lipped, knowing smile. _Mothers always know_…

* * *

><p>Back at Santana's place everybody had probably eaten more than they should. Everybody also sported a nice buzz due to some intense booze consumption. Santana made sure to check herself, though. The last thing she needed was to become weepy and certainly give everyone a pathetic show of all those embarrassing, hurt feelings she kept securely locked inside herself. Jimmy and Puck had already witnessed more than enough at the strip club.<p>

They moved the party from the kitchen to the living room to have some improvised dessert: ice cream with smashed cookies, which were beaten mercilessly inside of a zip-lock bag with a rolling pin by an enthusiastic Quinn and an over enthusiastic Santana. The liquor didn't have legs, but it sure made its way to the living room as well. Go figure…

Eyeing the grand piano with a spark in her eyes, Rachel said excitedly as she stood by the lit fireplace with a bowl of ice cream in one hand and a spoon on the other, "I think we should sing some Christmas carols."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Berry," Santana replied with annoyance in her tone, sitting comfortably on the sofa with her feet up on the coffee table – if only her mother could see her now – as she took another spoonful of ice cream from her bowl and gladly put it in her mouth. "We already know you're in love with the sound of your own voice. No need to sing to advertise it."

"I think it could be fun, San. Just like old times," Quinn backed up her wife with a smile, cradling her ice cream bowl as she leaned further into the beautiful Napoleon armchair she was occupying. "Jimmy can play," she added, shifting her gaze to the tall man who sat beside Santana.

"Yeah, let's cheer this night up a notch," James exclaimed with enthusiasm, placing his ice cream bowl next to Santana's wine glass on top of the coffee table before standing with a flourish.

"You can't sing, though, Jimmy," Rachel warned with a diva tone of voice, putting her bowl on the mantelpiece next to her wine glass before making her way to Jimmy who walked to the black piano. "You can't carry a tune to save your life," she added matter-of-factly.

"Yes, I remember that, thank you. You never do let me forget," Jimmy replied sarcastically, glaring sideways at the petite brunette by his side.

"I'll take the first one. Solo," Rachel said with untamed joy as she helped Jimmy remove the photo frames from the piano to open the instrument.

"Shocker!" Santana muttered loud enough for everyone to hear whilst trading her bowl for the wine glass to take a long sip.

Puck looked on at their exchange from his armchair with amusement while devouring his ice cream. Quinn was right, some things never really change.

"You can have the next one, Santana," Rachel added promptly, ignoring the female doctor's remark.

"Thanks for the kindness, Dwarf," Santana quipped sardonically without missing a beat. "But I don't sing anymore," she added nonchalantly. Santana refrained from adding the 'except for Zoey' part. She heard enough jokes as it was from Jimmy about the whip having exchanged hands from a blue-eyed _blonde_ to a tiny blue-eyed _brunette_. No need to add more fuel to the fire… It was _their_ private thing, anyway. Hers and Zoey's, and she liked it that way. "You guys are welcome to knock yourselves out, though."

"Since when?" Quinn asked lightly, trying to conceal a worried look but failing miserably as she held her friend's stare. "We always used to have plenty karaoke nights in New York," she added for good measure.

"Since I woke up, _if_ you must know," Santana replied curtly, sending Quinn a look that clearly read 'just drop this'. Quinn reluctantly obliged as Jimmy sat on the piano stool and Rachel, like the diva she is, positioned herself dramatically next to it to perform the song she selected to sing.

"I'll be singing _The Christmas Song_," Rachel solemnly announced, clearing her throat as Santana shot Quinn a brief 'are you kidding me?' look and they exchanged easy smiles before the ladies and Puck turned their full attention to Rachel and Jimmy, who had began to play the first few notes.

Rachel sang it very well, and then Puck and Quinn followed her with a nice duet of _Jingle Bell Rock_, who managed to bring a grin even to Santana's lips. Jimmy insisted on accompanying Quinn as she sang _Santa Claus is Coming to Town_ and after they were done, a hyper Rachel addressed Santana.

"Come on, Santana… If you're really not going to sing, at least choose something for me to sing to you."

"I have no requests," Santana said shortly, crossing her arms across her chest as she sat on the exact same position from many moments ago.

"Spoilsport," Jimmy cried out from the piano with a mischievous grin on his face as Quinn and Puck returned to their seats.

"Fine, I want to hear _River_," the brown-eyed doctor stated with a resolute tone, taking another sip from her wine glass, which had been re-filled not long ago.

"_River_?" Rachel asked with uncertainty, stealing a quick glance at her wife, who looked less than enthusiastic with the request while Santana merely nodded her confirmation.

_Yeah, leave it up to Santana to choose the most depressing, heart-wrenching Christmas song ever_; Quinn thought sadly. Sometimes she really worried about her friend. The brunette tried to hide her funk, but the petite blonde knew. She knew the woman was suffering.

"Alright," Rachel replied weakly, going to the piano's side as Quinn decided to change seats and take one beside Santana, who looked at her with a pair of suspicious brown eyes and a raised eyebrow but both said nothing.

The repetitive first notes began to sound through the living room as Jimmy expertly hit them and then Rachel's smooth voice was heard, "_It's coming on Christmas. They're cutting down trees. They're putting up reindeer and singing songs of joy and peace. Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on_…"

"She has a nice voice," Santana whispered to Quinn by her side. After a beat, she added, "Don't tell her I said that."

Quinn looked sideways at her friend with a sly smile on her lips and replied in the same hushed tone, "Your secret is safe with me."

"I've heard that one before," Santana quipped, returning the smile.

Rachel kept singing with her eyes closed, "_I wish I had a river so long. I would teach my feet to fly. Oh, I wish I had a river__I could skate away on. I made my baby cry_…"

The doorbell rang but it didn't faze the theater woman one bit. Puck eyed the lady of the house from his seat.

"It's probably Mrs. H…" Santana said to Quinn in a low tone before sighing. "That woman hears me sneeze and think I'm being too noisy," she complained with a scowl, preparing to stand up.

Quinn placed a hand on Santana's shoulder to stop her and said, "I'll go. I still bear a grudge from that time the old hag ratted me out to Judy." Seeing Santana's uncertain gaze, the blonde clarified, "Senior year… You threw that party here when your parents were out of town... I got drunk, vomited on Mrs. H's lawn…"

"Oh, right," Santana replied with a smirk at the memory, and Quinn nodded as reinforcement before standing up and leaving the living room towards the front door.

After a while she was opening up one of the front double doors. "What are _you_ doing here?" Quinn asked the other person standing in front of her with surprise.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Brittany repeated the question with a broad smile taking over her features. She carried a passed out Zoey, who peacefully rested her sleeping little head against the dancer's right shoulder. "And why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

Shaking her head and stepping away from the door to let her friend in, Quinn replied evenly as she matched Brittany's smile, "We decided to come last minute."

"Did everyone come?" The blue-eyed woman asked with a happy tone of voice, stepping inside the house as Quinn ran a hand through Zoey's hair and closed the door behind them.

Quinn knew that everyone meant her, Rachel and Jimmy. It was just how they worked. So, she nodded instantly.

"I couldn't pass the chance to blow Judy off, and Jimmy felt exactly the same about the Grahams. So…" Quinn announced with a snarky tone considering the subject, but she was happy to see Brittany again. She sorely missed her. She and Santana... That everyday contact was something you couldn't appreciate fully until you lost it.

"Meaning: you all wanted to be here for Santana," Brittany replied with a satisfied smile, reinforcing her hold under Zoey's thighs as a big yellow plastic bag that was slung on her arm dangled. Their little girl was sure growing.

Quinn looked down briefly with a sly smile and then looked back up into her friend's eyes. "You always were an expert in decoding phrases," the petite blonde said with warmth.

"Well, you kinda have to be one when you're with someone like Santana," Brittany joked with a grin, which quickly morphed into a wistful one when she considered the words she had just said.

Quinn flashed her a knowing smile and caressed the other woman's upper arm for comfort. Just then the taller blonde heard Rachel's singing voice in the background, "_I'm so hard to handle. I'm selfish and I'm sad. Now I've gone and lost the best baby that I ever had. Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on_…"

Brittany had been so wrapped up in the shock of seeing Quinn and their easy conversation that she hadn't even noticed it before then. Such a sad song… "Rachel's singing already, huh?" She asked and received a knowing smile from Quinn. "This song is so sad…" The dancer added sincerely with a fainter smile, not one to ever filter thoughts from her head.

"Yeah," Quinn conceded without missing a beat. "Leave it up to your wi –" The hazel-eyed woman stopped herself before saying something stupid. It was the alcohol talking. Paired with the familiarity of it all. Brittany noticed the slip, though. "Leave it to Santana to request the saddest Christmas song ever," she corrected her sentence. It was meant to come out as a joke but both women failed to identify the punchline.

Brittany smiled out of politeness and Quinn felt even worse for saying it. She had managed to filter that thought earlier in the living room, but it just slipped seconds ago. Yeah, she should definitely cut off on the wine after this.

Desperately trying to change the subject, Brittany said with a genuine smile after assessing her friend's flushed face, "I see you winos couldn't keep away from the red, huh?" She still vividly remembered all the dinner parties they had back in New York. Only ladies allowed. She missed those days…

"It takes one to know the other, sister," Quinn quipped rapidly, glad about the brightened of the mood. She wanted to ask whether Brittany knew about Santana not singing anymore, but she had stuffed her foot in her mouth enough for one day. She would broach the topic on another occasion. So, Quinn said instead as she started walking towards the living room, "Come on, join the five of us."

"Five?" Brittany asked with a confused tone as she followed her friend. She never had been good at math, but wait… Was _Riley_ there? Had she come back?

"Puck's here, too," Quinn replied with little consequence.

"Puck?" The dancer asked with surprise.

"He has the appletinis," the petite blonde stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world. The booze buzz had definitely gotten to her.

Brittany scrunched up her eyebrows and just shrugged it off as they finally reached the living room, passing by the twinkling Christmas tree that was then filled with presents most likely destined for Zoey, in time to hear Rachel's last lingering verses, "…_and singing songs of joy and peace. I wish I had a river I could skate away on_," and Jimmy's final notes.

"I would clap if my hands weren't occupied," Brittany said from the back of the living room, causing everyone to look at her and Quinn, who stood beside the dancer.

"Britt!" Rachel exclaimed with a wide smile, making her way towards the dancer and her wife. "I'm so glad to see you!"

"You, too, Rach!" Brittany replied promptly, matching her friend's smile as the petite brunette wrapped her and Zoey in a light embrace to not wake the apparently sleeping child.

"How's Zoey?" Rachel asked without dropping the smile. "We should probably keep it quiet, guys," she added with concern.

"She's great, thanks," the blonde replied politely, searching for Santana's eyes as the doctor made her way towards all of them. "And don't worry about this one. When she's out, she's out."

"Britt," Jimmy acknowledged the dancer from the piano with a small wave and a warm smile.

"Hey, Jimmy," Brittany replied enthusiastically, giving him a head nod since her hands were holding their kid whilst Santana stopped beside her. "Puck," she added, acknowledging the guy on the armchair with less enthusiasm. He still sort of irked her.

"Brittany…" Puck trailed on with his usual smirk placed on his face. "Long time no see," he added casually.

"What are you doing here, B?" Santana asked with surprise laced on her tone, but an unconscious smile made its way to her luscious lips as she caressed Zoey's back with gentleness. Brittany noticed that Santana looked very hot in that outfit and her chiseled cheekbones seemed even finer with the flush Brittany knew was wine induced.

"S and I thought you were Mrs. H," Quinn said with a giggle – she certainly have had too much to drink – while snaking an arm over Rachel's shoulders.

"Wow, thank you very much," Brittany quipped sarcastically with an easy smile.

"It was because of the noise," Quinn felt the need to justify.

Turning back to Santana, Brittany said softly, "I wanted you to have her earlier, so, you know, you guys could do presents together on Christmas morning." And she flashed the brunette her megawatt smile, one of the many ones that always reduced Santana to mush. Brittany left the part where she didn't want Santana to be alone out. Besides, she wasn't counting on their friends dropping by, but she was most definitely happy about that. Knowing the doctor had spent the holiday with people who love her and people she loves back made the dancer feel very warm inside.

"Thanks, Britt," Santana replied weakly with a sweet smile on her face, touched by her ex's considerate gesture. "Let's put the munchkin on her bed," she added. Turning to her friends, Santana finished, "We'll be right back. Entertain yourselves…" She and Brittany started walking towards the living room's exit when Santana turned her head and playfully said, "Don't break anything, kids."

Puck watched Zoey as Brittany carried the little girl by Santana's side, and Quinn beside Rachel made their way back to the sitting area. Jimmy came from the piano and started chatting with Rachel whilst Puck took the opportunity to walk towards Quinn.

"Do you ever think about her?" Puck asked in a low tone, almost timorously as he kept his gaze on Brittany and Santana's departing backs.

Following the man's gaze Quinn instantly knew what he meant. How could she not? The hazel-eyed woman took a slow, long breath and replied evenly yet tenderly, "Every night." After a beat, she met her need to ask, "You?"

Puck took the question into consideration, met the blonde's gaze and said honestly, "From time to time… Yeah..." And they exchanged weak smiles before being dragged into the other two's conversation.

Meanwhile, Santana and Brittany made their way up the marble staircase in veiled silence.

"Want some help?" Santana asked, breaking the silence as sprang to her mind that Brittany was carrying Zoey and a bag up.

"I can manage, thanks," Brittany replied with ease.

Santana's hand unconsciously lifted itself up to hover over the small of Brittany's back in a protective manner as the dancer climbed the steps a bit ahead of her. At that moment Brittany didn't need the actual _touch_ to really _feel_ Santana's hand's presence there, and the notion alone brought a peculiar smile to her face. They reached the white door of Zoey's bedroom, there was no mistaking it from the wood letter 'Z' that was painted in pink and hung on the door from a wide silky brown ribbon with a bow on the top. Santana opened the door and both women entered the girl's room after the brunette dimmed up the lights some. Brittany instantly spotted Candy sitting on the corner of the purple room. She had been in there before and the dancer had loved what Santana had done with the room. From the white furniture, to the colourful toys on the wall shelves, to the puzzle like foam mats in a corner, to the little lady tea table, to the three squares of animal-related artwork that hung over Zoey's bed… Everything was perfect.

"You didn't have to bring her tonight, you know?" Santana spoke in a hushed tone as she pulled the covers down and looked at the blonde. _Why does she always have to look so good?_ Santana wondered inwardly.

"I know, but I wanted to," Brittany replied in the same tone, holding Santana's stared as she gently placed Zoey on the bed. _The thought of you alone in this big house nearly killed me_, Brittany added in her mind. No way could she say that to proud Santana. "I was driving to Puck's bar to find you when I passed by here and saw all the lights on. Figured you were in," the dancer added, placing her bag on the ground and proceeding to take off the kid's shoes. "It was nice of them to come," she finished with a smile, searching for Santana's eyes as the brunette grabbed a nightgown from the white dresser.

Santana simply nodded as she came back with the nightwear clothing in hands. Brittany busied herself with taking Zoey's coat, tights, and dress off with extreme ability, or so it looked like for the brunette woman who watched them most closely.

"What about you? I mean, how will you give her your presents and all?" Santana said still in hushed tone, taking over and putting the nightgown on their daughter with as much delicateness as possible. It was Brittany's turn to watch unabashedly proud.

"She dozed off by the end of dinner. After dessert I woke her up and told her it was Christmas already, and that Santa had brought her her presents. She already opened them all, don't worry," Brittany informed with an appreciative smile on her lips while watching Santana wrestle with the last sleeve. "She was excited to come but she couldn't fight sleep in the car," she added with motherly amusement.

"Well, thanks for bringing her," Santana said genuinely after finishing with her dressing duty, looking up to meet those mesmerizing blue eyes. "I mean it," she added softly to convey the strength behind her words before refocusing her attention on Zoey. She placed a light kiss on the kid's head and pulled the covers back up, which seemed to stir the heavy sleeper a bit.

When Brittany leaned down to kiss her daughter as well the contact sent big, darker blue eyes slightly open. "Mommy?" Zoey asked a bit groggily, reaching out for Brittany's hand and holding it.

"Go back to sleep, baby," Brittany cooed tenderly, rubbing a soothing thumb where the girl's hair met her forehead with her free hand. It was one of Zoey's favourite places to receive caresses.

Santana couldn't help but notice the look of sheer adoration their kid was sending Brittany. It made her heart swell because that was the same look Zoey awarded _her _and, sometimes, she really wondered what _exceptional_ great thing she had done to earn and deserve _that_ sort of fantastic privilege.

Looking sideways, Zoey spotted Santana and beckoned hoarsely, "Mama…"

The brunette immediately complied and edged their girl's bedside; Brittany on one side, and Santana on the other. "I'm here, cariño…" The brunette trailed on in the sweetest of tones as Zoey grabbed her big hand with her small free one, without letting go of Brittany's in the process. "Listen to your Mommy and go back to sleep, ok?"

"So, sing to me," Zoey asked whiningly, tugging on her tan hand.

Santana could never say 'no' to their daughter. So, she shot Brittany a look that clearly stated that she didn't want the dancer present for that. It was not like she could bluntly say that in front of the kid, after all. Brittany got the hint with displeasure and reached over with her free hand to grab Rainbow from the bag she earlier discarded on the floor.

The blue-eyed woman then placed the stuffed unicorn next to Zoey and said with a smile, "Mommy's gotta go, baby. I'll see you soon, ok?" And then Brittany tried to pull her hand but Zoey held it tighter while emitting a whimper.

"No, I want you to stay," the blue-eyed girl mumbled, whimpering again with a sad expression on her pretty face. The kid was sleepy, and cranky, and unwilling to not have her wants met. And at that moment she wanted both her mommies there with her, which was actually quite an ever-present, latent desire that she didn't have words to express yet.

Brittany wanted to look sideways to gauge Santana's expression but she didn't. Instead the blonde said as sweetly as she could muster, "Sweetie, I can't s –"

Santana cut her off, looking at Brittany in the eye, "It's fine. You can stay." She hated this… _but_ she hated the sad look on Zoey's face a hundred times more. The truth is she would always take it for her daughter's sakes. Brittany smiled and took a seat on one of their daughter's bedside after Santana had taken one on the other.

Zoey smiled sleepily with satisfaction while still clutching a pale hand and a tan hand with her little ones over the covers.

"What do you want to hear?" Santana asked softly, even though she already knew the answer. Ever since she made this parody for Zoey moths ago the girl had become completely smitten by it. She still wasn't pleased with Brittany's presence, though. She didn't sing anymore, damn it! Only for Zoey.

"_Zoey girl_," Zoey said promptly, fighting sleep to sound as enthused as she felt.

Brittany felt just as enthused as the kid… and a million times more curious as she smiled down at the smiling Zoey. Secretly thankful to the girl for making Santana let her stay for this.

"_Really?_ I had _no_ idea," Santana joked with a sincere wide smile and Zoey actually got it since she smiled wider as well. She really did ask to hear that a lot. She thought it was so cool what her Mama had done, because they had heard the original one together before in some car rides and to transform a song seemed mighty clever for the four-year old.

Brittany had no clue about what was so funny, and deep down she knew what a shame that was. The thought that this would be rectified shortly gave her a nice feeling, though.

Santana cleared her throat theatrically, just as Zoey liked, and began singing while holding the kid's gaze,

"_You can't fool me, I saw you when you came out,  
><em>_You got your Mommy's taste but you got my loud mouth_…"

Zoey giggled at Santana's comical voice when she sang 'loud' and Brittany smiled broadly; yes the famous – or infamous? – Pierces' broad smile.

"_And you will always have a part of me,  
><em>_Nobody else is ever going to see,  
><em>_Zoey girl_…"

Santana always sort of choked when she sang those verses because the emotion behind them was so true and so strong that it did things to the brunette. That night was no different, perhaps even more enhanced because of a certain someone, and she avoided turning her gaze to Brittany's eyes – even though she was dying to do so – afraid of what she might catch there and what the implications might make her do.

"_With your cards to your chest walking on your toes,  
><em>_What you got in the box only Zoey knows,  
><em>_And I would never try to make you be,  
><em>_Anything you didn't really want to be,  
><em>_Zoey girl_…"

Her voice reached a higher tone on those last three verses and even without looking at the dancer she knew that Brittany knew the ramifications and intensity behind those lines. Her parents… It always seemed to come back to them, right? Brittany gulped dryly and felt tears welling up in her eyes as she tried to catch Santana's gaze with no success, so she turned back to Zoey, who tried hard to fight sleep with an adoration look in her eyes. The strong bond between their kid and Santana elated her. The brunette was even a better mother than her wildest dreams had ever presented her with.

"_Life flies by in seconds,  
><em>_You're not a baby Zoey, you're my friend_…"

The emotion was reaching higher grounds as Santana sang with all she got, and the words touched them, hitting hard at everything they had been through. Brittany had to catch one stray tear that defied her orders and decided to slide down her cheek. She wanted so much for Santana to look at her and really _see_ her, _read_ her somehow like she always did… but the brown-eyed woman was holding on tightly to her avoiding stance.

"_You'll be a lady soon but until then,  
><em>_You gotta do what I say_…"

Santana shot Zoey a mock serious look paired with pursed lips while wiggling a warning finger at the girl with the hand that wasn't still caught in the kid's intense grip, causing her to sleepily giggle. Brittany couldn't contain a chuckle as her hand was also still claimed by the little one.

"_You nodded off in my arms watching TV,  
><em>_I won't move you an inch even though my arm's asleep,  
><em>_One day you're gonna want to go,  
><em>_I hope we taught you everything you need to know,  
><em>_Zoey girl_…"

Zoey's eyes were getting extremely heavy, and the little girl was almost falling asleep when she subconsciously dragged Brittany's hand to Santana's. The blonde held it gently and the brunette let her, she even held back against better judgment. They were too caught up in the moment as Santana finally looked at Brittany while singing the last two poignant verses, and she held those piercing blue eyes that conveyed so much understanding, and sweetness, and… love. Something she did and didn't want to see at the same time. Brittany couldn't show that to her. Didn't she know that?

"_And there will always be a part of me,  
><em>_Nobody else is ever gonna see but you and me,  
><em>_My little girl,  
><em>_My Zoey girl_."

Santana sang the last few verses as she continued holding the blonde's stare with as much accuracy as she could handle considering the rush that was going through her head and the electricity that Brittany's touch was sending through her entire body, making her tone waver and her heart beat faster. The effect the dancer still had on her was undeniable, much to her dismay. Singing the last verse she reluctantly, but willingly, returned her gaze to Zoey, who had passed out in the interim.

Pulling her hand back with some resistance from Brittany, Santana cleared her throat again and said matter-of-factly, "She fell asleep."

Missing the contact but still glad that she was able to enjoy that private show, Brittany replied tenderly, capturing Santana's gaze again practically by force, "Yeah, she did." After a quick beat, she added in the same tone, "That was…" The dancer had trouble finding the right word to describe the magical moment, so she went with the most simple definition she could come up with, "…_beautiful_, San."

Santana shrugged the compliment off, but still faintly smiled as she carefully got up from Zoey's bedside. Brittany followed suit after grabbing her discarded yellow plastic bag from the floor. Both gave one final loving look to the kid sleeping next to the stuffed unicorn and made their way out of the bedroom after Santana dimmed off the light completely and let the star nightlight on.

"Let's rejoin the circus people," Santana joked to cut off the weird tension after closing Zoey's door almost all the way through. She always left a small gap unclosed because the girl liked it that way.

As she took one step towards the destination, Brittany grabbed her wrist and said softly, "Wait…" And the brunette obliged, wearing a confused look on her face. "I want to give you this first," the dancer added with a coy smile, taking out a wrapped present from the yellow bag and handing it to Santana. "Merry Christmas, San!"

Cautiously taking the present with a raised eyebrow, Santana replied matter-of-factly, "I thought we had agreed on _not_ exchanging presents." It wasn't really an agreement. Santana had said it, Brittany had countered it, and eventually the blonde gave up, planning on getting something either way.

"We had… but I wanted you to have this," the blue-eyed woman stated resolutely as Santana shot her a well executed, but very unconvincing annoyed look.

"Well, thanks," the brunette said genuinely, reluctantly smiling at Brittany. After a beat, Santana added as they still stood in front of Zoey's bedroom, "I have something for you, too." Brittany's small smile turned into a full-blown one. "I knew you wouldn't stick to our agreement," Santana said knowingly, shaking her head at the dancer's smile but secretly pleased by it. She was such a walking-talking contradiction these days… "Wait here, I'll grab it. It's in my room," the brown-eyed doctor finished, walking towards her old bedroom.

Shortly later Santana was back with her present to Brittany in hands. "Where's the one I gave you?" Brittany enquired with curiosity as she eyed the item on Santana's hand, trying to guess what was inside.

Handing the present to Brittany, Santana answered evenly, "I left it in my bedroom. Merry Christmas, B."

"Aren't you going to open yours?" The blonde asked as she was about to unwrap hers.

"Not now, and I think you shouldn't either," Santana said with a strained tone as she put her hand over Brittany's to stop her unwrapping. The last thing Santana needed was another awkward moment.

Judging Santana's features, Brittany nodded deciding to cave even though her curiosity was eating at her.

"Let's go downstairs," Santana said, starting the walk towards there already while Brittany followed, leaving the empty plastic bag on top of a passing sideboard at the hallway.

As they reached the foyer, Santana said, "You might want to leave your present here," and she gestured to the round wooden table on the center of the room, "We don't want those meddlers prying." She meant 'she' but what the hell, right? Semantics…

Brittany obliged and left the present on the table before they headed to the living room.

As they entered the room Jimmy, who sat on the cushy Napoleon armchair, said jokingly, "Wow, took you two long enough… Were you inventing the bed first so you could put it together and _then_ put my goddaughter on it? Because, you know, if these were the old days I'd say you two were… How do you say it, Santana? Getting your '_mack on'…_" he used air quotes "…upstairs." And he laughed, receiving an approving snicker from Puck.

Brittany blushed with embarrassment and Santana reddened with anger. "Just shut the fuck up, Jimmy! The only thing we were inventing was cement, you know, to build you some nice shoes. How do you feel about sleeping with the fishes?" Santana said in a huff as she and the blonde neared the sitting area of the living room.

Puck snickered again and Jimmy's smile fell. Quinn and Rachel giggled. Yeah, both of them have had enough.

"Hey, Britt, let me get you a glass of wine," Quinn said with a lazy smile, getting up from the sofa where she sat next to Rachel. Looking around the coffee table for a clean glass, she added, "I'll grab you a wine glass on the kitchen."

Brittany waivered her off with an easy smile, cornering the sofa as she replied like Santana wasn't even in the room, "No, it's fine. I'll drink from San's. Which one is hers?" Rachel pointed at the desired glass as Quinn sat again and filled the half-empty glass, which Brittany grabbed with no reservation.

"By all means…" Santana said ironically, cornering the sofa herself. "Feel free to have my glass," she added sarcastically and Brittany merely shot her a cheeky smile.

They all fell in easy conversation. Drinking, smiling, laughing out loud like old times... It had been a long time since Brittany actually felt like she was in the right place, like she belonged. She missed the feeling. And right at that second she remembered that Jenna, her _actual_ wife, was waiting for her outside in the car. _Of course it was too good to be true_, the little voice inside of her head chimed in before being categorically shut down.

"Yeah, Richard let me assist on the bypass –" Santana talked to Jimmy when Brittany interrupted the two's side conversation inside their main one.

"Sorry, guys, but I have to go. Jenna is waiting for me outside," the dancer said awkwardly as an afterthought, standing up while placing her glass, well, her and Santana's shared glass on the coffee table. They had been taking sipping turns for the last few minutes.

Santana felt the jealousy monster showing its head again. So, she decided to do what she did best: act nonchalant, aloof and cold. "Ok, you know the way out," the brown-eyed woman said with no emotion in her tone. If you looked up the word 'stoic' in a Pictionary you'd get a shot of her face right at that moment.

"Ok," Brittany replied meekly and a tad hurt, holding those cold brown eyes. "Merry Christmas, you guys," she added, trying to sound chipper as she looked around at everyone.

"I'll walk you out, Britt," Rachel offered as she sat comfortably snuggled against her wife, but her standing up motion hadn't being made.

"It's fine, Rach. You don't need to get up…" Brittany trailed on. "I'll walk myself," she added, walking towards her destination after exchanging quick goodbyes. She didn't hear Santana's.

Brittany grabbed her present on the foyer's table and let herself out, being hit by the strong wind as she jogged to the driver's side of her car. Jenna waited inside listening to music with a not-so-pleased expression on her face.

"I know, I know…" Brittany said apologetically as she closed the door behind her, put the present on the car's dashboard and buckled her seatbelt. "Q, Rachel and Jimmy came over and I just lost track of time catching up. I'm sorry."

Jenna replied with a tinge of annoyance, "Nah, waiting…" she looked at the digital watch on the car's dashboard "…_35 minutes_ outside was a total delight."

Brittany started driving and looked sideways at the green-eyed woman as she said, "Why didn't you knock and asked for me? Or honked the horn?"

"I was tempted, trust me. But I didn't want to seem obnoxious," Jenna said in earnest as Brittany drove them home.

Silence fell upon them as the dancer didn't know what else she could say.

"I see she got you a present as well," the petite blonde announced, eyeing the wrapped item on top of the dashboard. Brittany simply nodded in response, keeping a watchful eye on the icy road ahead of her. "Very nice of her," Jenna added even though not entirely genuinely.

* * *

><p>The first thing that Brittany did as they arrived home was to plop down on the couch to open her present from Santana. She was not even trying to hide the fact that curiosity was beyond eating at her at that point. Jenna took a seat on the Barcelona chair to watch her wife open it. Curiosity was also eating at her despite her strong attempts to fight it.<p>

Brittany tore the paper off, an action that clearly betrayed her paper-saving personality, and her eyes finally fell on it as she gasped. Jenna looked confused as her wife held in front of herself with awe an apparently old navy-blue t-shirt with both hands. The look on Brittany's blue eyes was enough to make Jenna feel a heavy clench in her heart. Her wife's eyes glimmered with untamed joy, its blue colour even bluer than before so it seemed to her and, if the petite blonde wasn't mistaken, she even spotted some teary wellness behind them as Brittany smiled what Jenna called her 'million-dollar' smile. Comparing and contrasting was the natural route her mind would go.

Brittany came back down from her jubilant high and turned the t-shirt over for Jenna to see. It was in fact a plain, old navy-blue t-shirt with '_Columbia_' written on the front in wide white letters that were somewhat faded from age, the green-eyed woman assessed. Obviously another _inside joke_ she would never be aware of.

"I can't believe she gave me this…" Brittany announced with a giddy and yet disbelieving tone of voice as she smiled brightly and turned the t-shirt back to her again, sort of clutching it against her chest. And then, unconsciously bringing it over to her nose to smell it, hoping there would be at least a faint scent of Santana on it. There wasn't. It smelled like a freshly washed piece of clothing, but it was worth the try.

That was the type of reaction Jenna unknowingly expected when she handed Brittany the tennis bracelet earlier that night. And to think that Santana achieved the result with an old piece of clothing… It seemed rather unfair to the green-eyed woman. She remembered Paula's words to her, '_This is not a competition. Remember that, Jenna. You are the one who has the girl. You win'_. But then, why she always felt like coming in second place when it came to Santana? It was a question that was hard to swallow. One she wanted to avoid, but also one that she had no clue as to whether she would really like to keep having to ask herself the rest of her life. Especially when one was thinking about _their_ own wife.

* * *

><p>Santana was ready for bed. Everyone else had already retired to their own room and Puck had already gone home after they declared that the <em>party<em> was officially over. As the brunette was more than ready to slide under the alluring covers, she spotted Brittany's present on top of the bottom side of her bed. Santana grabbed the thing and placed it on her nightstand. On one hand she wanted to open it, but on the other she didn't. It was from Brittany, and she clearly still harbored plenty resentment towards the lost love of her life. So, she slid under the covers and turned off the nightstand lamp, facing away from the present and closing her eyes to catch some sleep.

Minutes later she turned the lamp back on and grabbed the present, placing it on her lap after she sat up against the bed's headboard. Who was she kidding? In a battle against Brittany she was always bound to lose. Once upon a time, willingly so. These days there was a struggle, but the results were the same. Santana tore off the paper. She was never one to salvage it – that was Brittany, her mind wandered on its own volition. When her eyes came in contact with the object on her lap, Santana breathed deeply and slowly let it out. The brunette sighed as her tan and long fingers traced the cover of their beautiful wedding album. She couldn't believe Brittany had actually given it to her. She weakly smiled whilst opening it up with anticipation. One page by one her smile grew wider as her eyes captured and she briefly relieved the memories behind those many shots of familiar faces. They were so happy that day… _Not only that day_, Santana wistfully assessed in her mind. After a while she reached the end of the album… and the irony was not lost on her as she shook her head repeatedly, put it aside and went to sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Hope you liked the long, long chapter. Didn't want to leave you with a torture device a.k.a. cliffhanger. Anyhow, I just LOVE to add more cracks... Don't you?<strong>  
><strong>Review, please! ;)<strong>

As for the slow pace I get your frustration, folks. I do move at a glacial pace (with lots of mundane, day-to-day interactions that I simply love as I said before), but I'm afraid there is nothing I can do to change that. I wouldn't be able to alter my way of writing even if I wanted to. That being said, I strongly believe in the subtle drops that eventually will overflow the glass. Using a hose would be faster... but it wouldn't be as pretty or as delicate. Hang on because when it happens will be right and (hopefully) believable ;)


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Glee _nor its original characters (if I did it would probably be called _The Brittany and Santana Show_, and all the other characters would only be there to help advance their plot).

**A/N**: ****Here I come with a fresh update! Hope everyone will enjoy it as much as I did writing it. Side ramble: I have to say that I have an extremely strange fondness of writing awkward interactions. It just amuses me so... Oh-so-odd.

** You guys are really putting me on the spot with these dedications. Your reviews have become so awesome and lol-worthy that I get headaches trying to single a couple out. So, here goes nothing... This chapter goes out to: **Captain Anon**, because you totally called out the Kanye thing, dude! There will be a joke about that in the next chapter or shortly after, I think. And, worry not, those issues you mentioned will all be dealt with in due time, and it will be good... Also dedicated to **kamokronos**, because man (woman?), you don't go on proposing marriage to me like that! I strongly feel like I must warn you about the real me: I'm moody, selfish, proud, stubborn, impatient, a control freak, to name a few. I do make a mean omelette, though. Anyhow, do feel free to backtrack and run for your life. My own mother tells me constantly that I will die alone. Something to do with unrealistic expectations, real life, lack of patience and men of nowadays. I'm not really sure because I always tune her out when she gets overly preachy. And last, but not least, to **AnonFan**, because I'm glad you liked the analogy. I wish I could say the same about the one you mentioned, but the only thing I understood was 'Funny Or Die' video. I don't know who Sofia Vergara is, nor what/who/where "HeMo" is. I know He-Man, though... and now I want to thank you for making me feel my 25 years of age *lol*

**Enjoy the new chapter! And sorry for the mistakes. I'm not having the time to proof-read these chapters. Oh, and thanks for reviewing and PM'ing (I think I got around to answering *all* of them! Yay for me!). I forgot to mention that Chapter 12 got the most reviews ever! Like crazy amounts of reviews and that was awesome. So, I won't ramble anymore. Enjoy, good folks!**

* * *

><p><strong>Mischances, Stances and Stolen Glances<br>**_||Chapter Fourteen||_

Brittany and Jenna entered Breadstix with relief for being inside doors on that cold February night. They started walking further into the place to find a table since the restaurant was pretty casual and didn't require customers to wait for a waitress or waiter to show them one. As they walked Jenna was the first one to spot Santana and Riley sitting at a table, facing each other on opposite ends of it whilst chatting away. The petite blonde stopped walking and placed a hand on her wife's forearm to stop Brittany as well. The dancer obliged and looked at Jenna questioningly, who simply pointed her head towards the aforementioned couple. Brittany's heart sank. She knew they have been dating but she never actually have been confronted with it so directly.

"We should go and say hi or something," Jenna said to Brittany in a low tone. Santana and Riley hadn't spotted them yet. "It would be weird if we didn't," the green-eyed woman added honestly. It wasn't like she wanted to engage in conversation with Santana. She bore a bigger dislike for the woman as each day passed. But it would be odd, and it would seem like a big deal, if they just ignored hers and Riley's presence.

"Really? I don't think that's really necessary," Brittany replied dismissively with trepidation, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible but not doing a very good job at it. She hated confrontation, however benign they might be. And she certainly didn't think she was ready to face Riley and the consequences her real existence signified for the blonde.

"It will be awkward to just ignore them, honey," the shorter blonde countered, sounding annoyingly reasonable for Brittany's liking.

"Alright," the blue-eyed woman caved dejectedly, starting to walk towards the brunette's table with Jenna by her side. Within each step her hands shook and sweated a bit more, so she curled them into fists along her sides to try and conceal her obvious nervousness. _So, Santana had deemed Riley worthy of dinner, then_; the blonde's mind pondered with bitterness and sadness.

As the married couple was steps away from Santana's table the brown-eyed doctor registered their presence. She was smiling wide at the time and the unwelcome sight morphed it into a pale one. Of course Brittany noticed that.

"What a coincidence!" Brittany exclaimed as she and Jenna finally arrived at the table. The dancer quickly put on a broad smile that at first showing Santana could tell that it was as real as a plastic bouquet.

Brittany took the time to look at Riley's face, really look at it for the first time – even though she did it subtly and in between cleverly timed intervals – and it pained her to assess that the redhead was definitely a looker. From her flawless, abundant, perfectly cascading red hair, to her emerald-green eyes, to her cherry-coloured lips, to her milky complexion… She was unnervingly beautiful and indeed bore a striking resemblance to that actress Quinn had mentioned. The blonde couldn't do a full body recon considering the other two women were sitting down, but she fully intended to do one later.

"I'll say…" Santana trailed on casually, looking from Brittany to Jenna and back. "Although I can't add that I'm really surprised. We…" she looked briefly at a smiling Riley before returning her gaze to the dancer, who felt extreme discomfort at that specific pronoun, "…drove around town for 30 minutes trying to find a different place to eat, but turns out Breadstix is the most decent place around here," the brunette complained with ease. "Hence our inappropriate attire," she added, looking down for good measure before returning her orbs to that blue stare.

She and Riley were way overdressed for the casual restaurant in their stylish, sexy cocktail dresses. Yes, they were both a bit cold since the restaurant clearly skimped on heat, but everyone on the dating world sacrificed comfort over appearance. _It is a truth universally acknowledged_.

"Both of you look really nice," Jenna said sort of awkwardly as she tried to insert herself in the conversation as smoothly as possible for someone who didn't have a clue about what they should say.

Santana only managed to flash the petite blonde a yellow smile as Riley said with a genuine grin on her lips, looking Jenna in the eye, "Thank you!" And then she casually turned to Santana, and added evenly, "Cover your ears, please, San." Brittany hid a cringe at the nickname usage while Santana did what she was asked without hesitation, even though she was intentionally doing a poor job at it. She had come to know that Riley was a bit of a carefree wildcard sometimes.

Returning her gaze to a curious Jenna and Brittany, Riley said in a low tone, "I'm glad you said so. I changed four times before settling on this dress because, you know, _Santana_ there totally judges people on what they wear." And the ginger flashed them an ear-to-ear puckish smile.

"Hey!" Santana hissed, dropping her hands from her ears. Everyone knew she was listening to everything. "I never said that," she added in protest, staring at her date.

"Not in so many words," Riley joked playfully and Brittany rolled her eyes at their _cute_ banter.

"Yeah, well, but as I was saying," Santana began dismissively with a light smile, returning her gaze to the married couple in front of them, "It is truly a testament to this town the fact that the _best_ restaurant here serves their house wine in a _jug_." And she motioned to the object on their table with a grin as Brittany's eyes caught a glimpse of some books and flashcards next to it. "It is _so_ bad that it's sort of good. Tastes like grape juice mostly," Santana mused, taking a sip from her glass. A standard water glass that was used as a wine glass, by the way.

"Totally..." Riley concurred with a head nod, taking a sip of hers as well. "And it has like… _5%_ alcohol. Tops," she added, shifting her gaze from Santana to the unknown women.

"Yes, we've tasted it before. We kinda like it, too," Jenna stated offhandedly. "Right, honey?" She added without skipping a beat, looking sideways at her wife as it was Santana's turn to hide a cringe from the term of endearment. At least it hadn't been '_babe_'. That would've hurt.

Brittany had been uncharacteristically quiet during their chat due to her stupor regarding this whole Twilight Zone-y experience. So, Jenna felt the need to nudge her out of it without literally having to nudge her. She was carrying this whole thing by herself, for Pete's sakes! And it wasn't even _her_ ex.

"Right," Brittany replied instantly with a tight-lipped smile, not exactly sure what she was backing up. All she knew was that it had to do with wine. _Snap out of this, Brittany_; the dancer mentally scolded herself.

"Yeah, next date I might be tempted to drive us to Dayton," Santana said playfully, feeling less awkward about this whole situation than she might have felt in the past. Now she had someone as well, not like Brittany had someone, but she felt like the plain field was slightly more even. As for Breadstix, she wasn't as against it as she made it sound. Those breadsticks still drove her wild.

"_Next_ date? Who told you there _will _be a next date?" Riley teased lightly, biting on her bottom lip for effect and Brittany was sure that she had thrown up a bit in her mouth. This was starting to make her physically ill and she hoped nobody could hear her stomach churning.

"Please," Santana scoffed with a smug grin. "Have you looked at me?" The brunette added cockily and Jenna shook her head with lack of amusement while Brittany rolled her eyes in spite.

"I have," Riley all but husked out, wearing a sexy smirk whilst flirting. "_Trust me_," the redhead purred in her best sultry tone, putting emphasis on the short sentence. "And I _see_ your point." Santana gulped and began to feel slightly embarrassed again. She didn't want to care but she did. Brittany was _right_ there. It felt ungracious and it shouldn't feel.

At that moment Brittany felt more than ready to turn around and walk away. That was too much too soon. And she was about to do so before Santana decided to change the subject, refocusing her eyes on Brittany's as she said, "Where are my manners? I forgot to introduce you." She shook her head in self-reproach. "Riley…" she looked at the emerald-eyed woman and back to the couple, "…this is my…" Santana paused briefly, cursing herself for not thinking this through. She had mentioned her ex before to Riley but she never gave name or details, so she decided on going with, "…_friend_, Brittany." The brunette swore she saw the dancer wince, but she shrugged it off to paranoia. Brittany _did_ wince and she felt terrible listening to that description. "And that's her wife, Jenna." Santana forced herself to say the correct name of the woman and Jenna displayed a genuine wide smile at that. _Progress_, the petite blonde thought. Santana didn't want to sound like a bitter creep to Riley, so she made the sacrifice.

The usage of the correct name startled Brittany and it unexpectedly stung. It gave her some comfort to always hear Santana butcher her wife's name. A sad, twisted comfort, but comfort nonetheless. And now that Santana had let that go… she couldn't help but torture herself by wondering what else the brown-eyed doctor had let go as well. All that thinking and theorizing was giving Brittany a headache. She knew this moment was going to be bad, but she never thought it would be that bad.

"What are those?" Brittany asked rapidly, trying desperately to change the subject somehow as she pointed to the books and flashcards on top of the table. She was starting to feel hot and suffocated on that atmosphere and the last thing she wanted was for Santana to notice that. That woman could read her like a book. She needed to get it together. Besides, as repulsed as she was, Brittany wanted to know everything about the other _couple_. It was a morbid curiosity, but she couldn't help it.

"Riley's studying materials for nursing school," Santana replied matter-of-factly, glad for the subject change as well.

"I have this big test tomorrow afternoon. I've studied my ass off already, but I'm still stressing over it. And I didn't want to cancel our date…" Riley started to explain.

"So I told her to bring them over. I could quiz her over dinner. No big deal… It's right up my alley, anyhow," Santana amended with a shrug and a charming smile. Brittany smiled a bit at the sight of it despite the circumstances. It reminded her of how charming Santana could be… when she _wanted_ to be. Brittany always had loved that about her.

"I tried to convince San to give me a kiss for each correct answer but she drives a hard bargain," Riley joked lightheartedly, completely unaware of the awkwardness her sassy statements were causing considering Brittany and Santana's history. And the brunette began to regret her decision of not exposing that a while earlier when she had the chance. The last thing she needed was more awkwardness in her life.

"You're at nursing school?" Jenna enquired politely, coming to all of their rescues, and clueless Riley nodded her confirmation.

Brittany felt inclined to make a dig about her _other_ job, but refrained from doing so. Sounded too petty in her head. Thank God she managed to filter that in time. _I have to work harder on that skill as well_; she made a mental note about it.

"And what brings you two here this lovely night?" Santana asked with some curiosity of her own.

"It's our anniversary," Brittany said softly, reluctantly holding Santana's stare. The brunette put up a good front, but Brittany managed to see the flicker of hurt that passed through her dark chocolate eyes.

Santana was taken aback. She leaned against the back of her seat with more force as her brows shot up. "Look at that," the brown-eyed woman said with a tinge of venom before taking a deep breath to quell her temper. "So, what is it? Anniversary and a half, anniversary and a quarter?" She trailed on sarcastically, putting on a fake smile as she turned her gaze from Brittany to Jenna and back. "I know how you like those," Santana finished in the same tone, holding the dancer's stare with what could only be described as ferocity.

"It's our second year anniversary," Jenna stated with a proud smile, clearly puzzled and oblivious to whatever Santana was saying. The proud smile she wore only made Santana want to get up and wipe the damn thing off the shorter blonde's face.

The brown-eyed doctor managed to keep it together, though, as Riley offered her congratulations. Not that Santana could hear properly what she was saying, considering her heart seemed to have resorted to beat in her ears, deafening her momentarily.

"We don't celebrate those. Only the _actual_ anniversaries," Brittany clarified in a low tone, trying to hold Santana's unruly gaze to convey her sympathy. _How could she think I'd do that with Jenna? That was our thing_; Brittany thought dejectedly.

_Brittany outstretched the little black number on top of their bed and eyed it with a smile on her lips. Their evening would be perfect and that dress was hot. Satisfied with her choice the leggy blonde made her way to the kitchen in her pink bathrobe. She eyed the clock on the wall; Santana must be arriving home soon, she thought. She should hurry up. Brittany looked at the kitchen table all set and adorned; food from their favourite bistro spread all over it and she couldn't help but smile again. And so she grabbed a box of matches to light the first one of the two candles that sat on top of their small table. While she was at it her cell phone started ringing in her bathrobe's pocket._

_Brittany finished lighting the long candle and blew the match before fishing for her phone. Santana's name flashed on the little screen and the dancer smiled again, flipping her phone open. "Hey, babe! I was just about to call you. Are you almost here? 'Cause I wanted you to stop by Lenny's to grab one of those sweet, cheap pink wines we –" Brittany started babbling with little consequence before the brunette interrupted her._

"_Britt, Britt…" Santana said softly, successfully cutting off her girlfriend. "I was actually calling…"_

_A male voice on the other end of the line cut off Santana, "Lopez, get your ass over here."_

"_I said in a minute, Novak! Jesus!" Santana yelled without missing a beat and Brittany scrunched up her brows in confusion._

_Santana went back to Brittany as she said softly, "Listen, babe, as I was saying, I'm calling to tell you that I won't be able to make it in time." _

"_Oh," Brittany let out more like a sigh._

_Detecting the disappointment in that simple sigh, Santana stated in earnest, "I'm so sorry... You have no idea how much but Professor Asshole, I mean, Ashmore," Santana had to stop that; she knew one day she would slip in front of the man himself, "is keeping us here insisting that everyone must accompany this procedure. It will take hours and when I arrive you'll probably be sleeping already." Small pause. "Did I say how sorry I am yet?" She tried to use the charm._

"_It's alright, San. It's just an anniversary and a quarter," Brittany said in low spirits, trying to make light of the situation. She was really looking forward to that night. She had to practically offer Lainey, the head choreographer of her dance company, her first-born in order to get the night off. With her work and Santana's internship, paired with Med School, they were having so little time together lately. "If you have to stay you have to stay. I understand," she added honestly._

"_I feel like an ass for bailing on you at the last minute. But I had no idea," the brunette said apologetically._

"_I know, babe," the blue-eyed woman cooed gently, fussing with the rope of her bathrobe. "And don't feel bad. I'll leave you a plate in the microwave for when you get home. I picked up some food from our bistro on my way home," Brittany informed lightly._

"_Fuck, I so wish I was there…" Santana expressed her misery and it brought a small smile to the dancer's lips. "Have I told you how much I –" the brown-eyed woman began to purr when she was interrupted yet again._

_The same male voice exclaimed, "Lopez!" His voice dropped a bit, "Professor Asshole – damn it! – Ashmore arrived."_

"_I'm on my way!" Santana yelled back. "B, I gotta go," she said tenderly, trying to convey how sorry she was. "I'll try to arrive as early as I can, ok? Bye."_

"_Bye, San," Brittany replied instantly and the call was ended._

_The dancer put the cell phone back in her pocket and dejectedly blew the candle she had just lit. So much for a romantic night together…_

_After eating alone in front of the TV, clearing up the whole shebang off the kitchen table, washing up her dishes, making Santana's plate and putting it in the microwave, returning her little black dress to the closet with a sigh, and wandering aimlessly around the apartment, Brittany decided to take a bubble bath. She had already taken a shower earlier, but she felt like she deserved the treat. If only she had a box of bonbons…_

_Brittany was enjoying her extreme bubbly bath when she heard her cell phone ringing again. It came from the pocket of her bathrobe that she had discarded to the floor near the bathtub. Leaning over the edge of the tub a bit, she retrieved the object after wiping her hands on the bathrobe's soft fabric. Santana's name flashed on the screen again, and again it brought a smile to her pink lips. Maybe she was coming home earlier than expected._

"_Hey, San!" She greeted cheerfully, grinning widely at that point. "Miss me already?" Brittany added playfully._

"_Sure," Santana replied not skipping a beat, and then she shifted to her completely serious tone, "Britt, turns out I'll have to stay here for the night. I literally drew the short stick."_

"_Ah, that sucks, San…" Brittany replied with disappointment, maneuvering some bubbles around. So long, 'coming earlier' hopes…_

"_Listen, I left some note cards on top of my desk and I need you to read me something. Could you do that for me?" Santana asked evenly._

"_Sure, I'll just need one second," Brittany replied promptly, preparing her body to leave the comfort of the bath to stand up._

"_Where are you?" Santana asked with interest._

"_Oh, just in the bathroom," Brittany downplayed, her hair up in a messy bun, "One sec and I'll read it to you –"_

"_There you are," Santana stated, cutting the dancer off and making Brittany turn her head around after hearing the voice so close. And there stood Santana: leaning against their bathroom's doorframe in blue scrubs, holding her cell phone on her ear. All smiles and dimples._

_Brittany smiled at the sight, her head turned to look Santana in the eye. "What are you doing here?" She asked softly, still talking to the brunette through her cell phone._

_Santana directed her look to the note cards stuffed in the breast pocket of her scrubs and replied, "I came for these." Ending the call, she said with a grin while putting the phone into her pocket, "I can't believe you would leave your hot…" Santana took one step closer to the bathtub, "…lovely…" she took another step, "…bubble bath to grab my stupid note cards."_

"_I would do anything you asked me to," Brittany stated charmingly, looking up and flashing the brunette that dazzling smile of hers that always made Santana think how fucking adorable her girlfriend was. "Sexually, too," the dancer deadpanned in typical Brittany-like fashion, cheeks rosy from the hot water._

"_Is that so?" Santana countered with a chuckle; unable to hold herself any longer, thus leaning down to crash her lips against Brittany's warm ones and feeling her girlfriend nodding her confirmation into the kiss. Pulling back, Santana added with a smirk, "I must be very lucky girl, huh?"_

"_Very," Brittany confirmed with a smirk of her own._

"_Here, I brought you this…" Santana announced, pulling with a flourish a wine bottle from the hand she had kept behind herself this whole time. "The rosé from Lenny's you asked for," she said, handing the bottle to the clapping blonde. "And this…" Santana added, pulling a small cheap-looking bouquet of flowers from behind and handing it to a then gasping Brittany. "They look awful, I know and I'm sorry, but the flower shop near the hospital was closed and this was all Lenny had left for the day. He had to fish it from the back of the convenience store," Santana explained rather meekly._

_Brittany puckered her lips and Santana was well aware that she wanted a kiss, which the brown-eyed woman granted gladly. "Thanks, San!" The dancer exclaimed with a broad smile after they pulled apart, and then she took a good gander at the flowers and stated, "They don't look that awful… A bit sad, but not awful. Anyhow, the thought is what counts, right?"_

"_I sure hope so," Santana quipped immediately. "Happy anniversary and a quarter, Britt!" She exclaimed softly and then her tone became lower, "After we hung up I realized that I didn't even say that to you."_

"_Happy anniversary and a quarter to you, too, San! And it's ok, you were busy," Brittany said in her sweetest tone._

"_No, it's not ok. You were being your amazing self and I was being a jerk," Santana protested, kneeling near the tub to drop a peck on Brittany's lips, which the dancer welcomed whole-heartedly. "I didn't even say I love you. I'm sorry," she added after pulling back._

"_You're not a jerk. You brought me wine and flowers. You're the best girlfriend I could have asked for, and the only one I'll ever want because I love you, too," Brittany said, letting her corny flag fly – like Santana would often put._

_Upon hearing those words, Santana stood up and began to take her scrubs off._

"_What are you doing?" Brittany asked with furrowed brows, looking up and feeling unable to not enjoy the show._

"_What does it look like?" Santana countered with a smirk, locking brown eyes on gorgeous blue ones. "I'm getting naked to join you," she added, getting rid of her running shoes and socks with extreme agility._

"_But I thought you had to go back to the hospital," Brittany replied with animation all over her tone of voice as her eyes roamed her girlfriend's perfect body._

"_I do, but I'll just text Novak and ask him to cover for me. He's a pushover and I bet that if I promise to let him touch one of my boobs for a couple of seconds he'll do it in a heartbeat," Santana said in nothing but a striped cotton panties and bra while fishing for her cell phone in her scrubs' pocket._

_Brittany narrowed her eyes, shifting a bit in the tub as she said sternly, "I don't want anyone touching your boobs! Not even one of them and not even for a couple of seconds. Only I get to do that." And then she pouted while Santana texted._

"_Fine, but I'll have to be mean and threatening then," Santana replied offhandedly, stopping with the typing to look at the blonde like asking for permission to do something she was dying to._

_Brittany simply shrugged as a way of saying 'what else is new?', and Santana smiled her devious, devilish smile while returning to type quickly before finally hitting send. _

"_Done!" Santana announced and Brittany giggled, patting the water with an eager look on her face._

_Santana was about to unhook her bra when she suddenly stopped and stormed out of the bathroom. "What?" Brittany called out in frustration. Such a tease to stop at the best part of the show…_

_Santana came back quickly with a corkscrew in hand, holding the item up for Brittany to see as a grin played on her lips._

"_Ah…" Brittany let out as epiphany hit her while watching Santana open the cheap rosé with ease. _

_The brunette's phone went off and she made a head motion for Brittany to get it as she opened the wine. "It's the guy. He said he'll do it," Brittany said evenly, fussing with the phone's buttons while in the tub. After reading something else – Santana's original message to the guy – the blonde added with a tinge of pride as she returned the phone to the floor, "Wow, you really know how to be mean and scary, babe…"_

_Santana nodded with a tight-lipped, proud smile and replied nonchalantly, "Yeah, you know, it's sort of my thing." Finishing her task, Santana handed Brittany the bottle – which was quickly placed on the edge of the tub – put her hair up in a messy bun as well and shed the two remaining items of clothing, making the dancer grin like a four-year old in a candy store. The brunette stepped into the tub filled with perfect hot water and slowly sat down facing Brittany._

_The blue-eyed woman wore a big toothy grin on her face as she scooted closer to her girlfriend. "Hey," she said charmingly before leaning in and killing the few inches remaining between them to capture Santana's lips in a sweet kiss that turned pretty heated pretty fast._

"_Hey, yourself," Santana shot back just as charmingly after pulling back with a lazy smile on her face._

_Brittany took the bottle of rosé from the edge of the tub and took a swig while Santana said, feeling the water around her, "You really outdone yourself this time, Britt-Britt. This bubble bath is fantastic." And she played with some bubbles before taking the bottle of wine that the dancer was handing over to her._

_As Santana took her own swig from the bottle, Brittany nodded and replied in monotone, "I heard the voice of the water. It told me what to do."_

_Santana smiled at her girlfriend's antics and placed the bottle back on the edge of the bathtub. She scooted even closer to Brittany and put her arms around the blonde's neck as they faced each other with silly grins. _

"_So," Santana said flirtatiously in her husky tone. "Here I am," she added, speaking directly into the dancer's ear, "And I'll do anything you ask me to as well." She pulled back, locked brown eyes on turned-on blue ones and added lowly, "Sexually, of course."_

_Brittany gulped audibly and wrapped her legs around Santana's waist with a smirk._

"_So, what is it going to be, babe?" Santana enquired teasingly._

_The dancer looked up and away for a while, clearly deep in thought as her lips went into pursed position and her eyebrows got slightly furrowed. Santana smiled yet again at Brittany's adorableness._

_After a few seconds Brittany's eyes lit up and she locked them on Santana's before leaning forward and whispering something in the brunette's ear._

_As Santana heard what her girlfriend was proposing her eyes widened and she gasped a bit. "Britts, you have such a filthy mind…" the brown-eyed woman said after the blue-eyed woman pulled back and looked at her expectantly. Santana couldn't help the smirk that took over her lips, though._

"_You love it."_

"_I do. Happy anniversary and a quarter, B!"_

"_Best anniversary and quarter ever!"_

"_I'll say…"_

_After the words barely left Santana's mouth Brittany was capturing those luscious lips with her own, letting her tongue roam free as it pleased and ready to hold the brunette to her freshly made promise._

The sympathy was lost on the brunette. She didn't want any fucking sympathetic look. She wanted to let the fire of her righteous rage burn bright. Santana's cheeks flushed a bit when she said with a firm tone, "Wow, two years, huh? Congrats!" She epically failed at disguising her sarcasm and Brittany averted her eyes from the brunette's piercing stare. She always felt like Santana could see through her soul, and it was certainly not the moment for that. "What's that anniversary again? Leather? Cotton?" She sort of asked herself. "Well, whatever, I'll look it up and make sure to buy you crazy kids a gift," Santana finished with a wave of hand, wearing the smile that Brittany used to call her 'fake Cheerios smile'. She never liked that smile, especially when it was directed at her.

"You don't have to buy us anything, San," Brittany said dejectedly, erroneously taking the brunette's words at face value and even Riley started to pick up on some weird tension going on there.

"Either way," Santana declared a bit too loudly, picking up her wine glass. Whenever she got riled up her tone of voice tended to do that. "I wish both of you better luck than I had," she added ironically with a dry chuckle, fully knowing she had hit below the belt. _Yes_, she did that too while riled up. "Cheers," Santana finished it off, holding her glass up for Riley to click hers against it and taking a big gulp after she obliged whilst defiantly staring at the _happy_ married couple.

An uncomfortable silence enwrapped the four women and Brittany couldn't understand why she couldn't just say goodbye and go her way with Jenna. Her tongue was tied and her throat was dry as she stayed rooted to her spot on the ground.

Not one to endure awkward silences, Riley decided to intervene, looking from Santana to the married couple, "So… I've been dying to meet some of Santana's friends so I can ask…" The ginger trailed on with an up-to-no-good smile on her face, holding a dramatic short pause before she added playfully, "What does a girl have to do to get into her pants?"

Santana choked on the wine she had just taken a sip of and Brittany and Jenna's eyes widened a bit. The former way more than the latter's.

"Because, you know, this is like our sixth official date," Riley continued jokingly through a mischievous chuckle. "I have my designs on her and I'm thinking tonight might be the night."

"Riley!" Santana found her voice to scold her date while she coughed due to her choking and blushed. She knew the woman was carefree and puckish, but that was… The brunette had no words to describe it. If Santana had begun to regret her decision of not telling Riley about Brittany being her ex moments ago, right at that moment she had come to regret it with the energy of a thousand suns. Awkward didn't even begin to describe the uneasiness of that instant.

"What? You said none of your friends were prudes, aside from…" the emerald-eyed woman countered, trailing off with a curious expression as she shifted her gaze to Santana's flushed face. And then she returned her stare to the couple and her eyes unconsciously traveled to Jenna's un-manicured nails. "Oh, wait… you're not Man Hands, are you?" Riley asked the shorter blonde with furrowed brows and even midst the awkwardness Santana couldn't help a light chuckle. "Because I thought she was married to that other blonde from Skype, what's her name?" Riley pondered for a millisecond. "Quinn." She answered her own question.

"She isn't Berry," Santana replied with half-amusement, half-embarrassment as a light smile played on her lips while she shook her head.

"I'm not Rachel," Jenna confirmed with a smile as well. The only one who wasn't finding any of this the slightest bit amusing was Brittany, who stood there with a blush caused by annoyance instead of embarrassment.

"But I will be eternally grateful if you call her Man Hands to her face when you meet her," Santana quipped, resting her forearms on the table. She was more than thankful that her wound was gone, leaving only a faint little scar. "That will be priceless," she added, stealing a glance towards a displeased Brittany.

Reading her ex-wife effortlessly, Santana felt the need to rectify this whole messy situation of her own creation, so she said softly while holding Riley's still confused stare, "Anyway, Brittany isn't Quinn, Riley. And she's not only my friend. She is…" She stole another glance at Brittany. _My soulmate? The only one I've ever loved and ever will? My best friend in the world? The ghost who broke my heart before I met you?_ Santana pondered before saying it the only way she really could, "…my daughter's other mother." And the brunette couldn't help but redirect her gaze back at Brittany and flash her a warm smile, which was wistfully matched by the despondent dancer.

"Oh…" Riley uttered simply, taking in the information. Santana had talked enough about Zoey, her daughter, for her to connect the dots. She hadn't met the kid yet, unfortunately. "Oh!" The redhead repeated with a more acute intonation as she realized what she had said earlier and really understood the tension and awkwardness her remark had caused.

Riley chanced a look at Brittany but she felt embarrassed to hold it, so she said while looking at a little to the dancer's side, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I had no idea that…" the ginger trailed off lamely, shaking her head and tucking a strand of silky red hair behind her ear. "Talk about foot in the mouth, huh?" She added with a light chuckle. The green-eyed woman had always believed that bluntness was the way to go on terribly embarrassing situations.

Brittany made the effort to try and make things less uncomfortable as she said gingerly albeit untruthfully, "It's fine. No big deal, you didn't know…" And she tried unsuccessfully to smile as she waved her hand dismissively.

"Santana has showed me lots of pictures of Zoey and I can't wait to meet her. She's one of the most adorable kids I've ever seen," Riley said in earnest, trying to make some sort of amends.

Brittany smiled genuinely for the first time in the night upon hearing that Riley hadn't met their daughter yet. It made sense; Zoey never mentioned anything and, knowing their daughter, the little girl would have _definitely_ said something. Brittany knew Santana, and she knew the brunette would only introduce someone important to the kid. And, clearly, Riley wasn't that yet. She welcomed the good, relaxing news with open arms.

"That she is," Brittany replied offhandedly, not dropping the smile.

A waitress approached carrying a tray with Santana and Riley's orders. "Excuse me," the woman said to the married couple, who stepped aside instantly.

"We'll let you two enjoy your dinner," Jenna said casually, taking Brittany's hand in hers as Santana shot daggers at the green-eyed woman when faced with that sight.

"Yes," Brittany reinforced evenly, looking at the plates of spaghetti and meatballs with a sinking heart. _That was what we ordered! Isn't anything sacred anymore?_ She thought petulantly. Losing her cool so soon after she had found it.

"Yeah, you two enjoy your dinner as well," Santana stated in the most contrived tone Brittany had ever heard the brunette speaking.

The waitress began placing their plates of food in front of Santana and Riley as Jenna and Brittany walked away. Brittany made sure to grab a table where she could have a nice view of Santana's, though. One where she could watch but couldn't be seen watching. Her mind was _clearly_ not in a good place.

Brittany and Jenna sat down and the dancer grabbed two menus on top of the table, passing one over to her wife and keeping one to herself. Her blue eyes quickly traveled towards Santana's table. _First time_. She briefly studied the back of the brunette's head for a second before shifting her gaze back at Jenna.

"That was awkward," Jenna announced lightly, skimming through the menu in her reading glasses.

"Yeah…" Brittany trailed on with heaviness as she looked through the menu as well. After a long beat the tall blonde looked up at the green-eyed woman, who felt eyes on her and looked up to meet them with anticipation. "I'm sorry, Jenna," Brittany let out honestly, stealing a quick glance towards Santana's table again. _Second time_. "So sorry…"

"About what?" Jenna asked timorously, putting her menu down with anxiety.

"About that, about everything that's been happening lately…" Brittany rambled on dejectedly, putting her menu down on the table, too. She was so confused and she never expected to be put in this delicate position. She never expected Santana to wake up for one. All those feelings she had never went away, there was no closure, and she had absolutely no idea of what she should do with everything she was feeling. So, that's why all she ever did was nothing. "I just can't – I don't even know how to explain," the dancer added with sad eyes as she held Jenna's stare. _We don't deserve this. None of us deserve this_; Brittany thought, stealing another short glance at Santana. _Third time_.

Jenna sighed in relief as she took Brittany's hand on top of their table. "It's alright, honey," she said softly, flashing Brittany a comforting smile. "I understand," the shorter blonde assured her wife. She knew their situation was complicated to say the least.

_I don't think you really do_; Brittany thought sadly. Instead of saying that, she asked with a faint smile, "Why do you always have to say the right things?" And it was the truth. Jenna always knew the right words to say. Talking about feelings wasn't akin to pulling teeth without anesthesia like it was for _a certain brunette_. She should focus on those pros, right? _Right_. Then why was she struggling so much to make this work?

"Because I'm sort of perfect," Jenna quipped with a laugh, tightening the hold on Brittany's hand. The dancer smiled a little wider. But it was still a yellow smile, not that Jenna had the expertise to distinguish them.

"What can I get you two?" A waiter asked upon arriving at their table as Brittany sneaked another glance at Santana's head. _Fourth time_. It's a disease; she thought. The blue-eyed woman simply couldn't contain herself.

At the same time Santana and Riley shared their own conversation.

"Can I get you anything else?" The waitress asked politely after placing their spaghetti plates on the table.

"A water refill would be great, thanks," Santana replied just as politely. And then she felt eyes on her. She didn't need to _see_ Brittany looking at her to _feel_ her. She always could do that. _Goddammit!_ But she wouldn't let the dancer ruin her date. All of this was her doing, anyhow. So, she should simply ignore the feeling.

"Same for me, please," Riley added with a smile, looking at the middle-aged waitress who nodded and went back to the kitchen area to fetch what was asked. Shifting her gaze back at Santana, Riley added softly, "I'm so sorry about before, Santana. I had no idea… You should have given me a warning or something before I put my foot in my mouth like that." And she flashed her best charming smile.

"It's ok, really. Like you said, you didn't know. If it was anyone's fault it was mine," Santana replied in earnest, taking a sip of her wine as Riley took the first bite of her food. "But let's not talk about this anymore," the brown-eyed woman added, dying to escape from that unsavory topic.

The waitress came back and refilled their water glasses. Both said their 'thanks' and the woman went away again.

"You know, I used to work as a waitress," Riley offered as Santana ate with gusto. That spaghetti with meatballs was really good. Receiving an encouraging look, the redhead continued honestly, "But the paying was horrible and the hours were really long. I couldn't manage nursing school and the job. That's how exotic dancing came into my life. It seemed like the perfect fit: great money and little hours."

"I can see the logic in that," Santana replied just as honestly before taking a sip of her wine whilst Riley dove into her own food. Brittany had temped as a waitress back in the days in New York. It didn't last long since, as Riley put it, the paying was horrible and the dancer lost most of it when they deducted the many things she usually broke while on the job. So, Santana understood it.

"Does your dad know about your _other job_?" Santana added in question, holding those emerald-green eyes as she made easy conversation.

The brunette knew Riley only had her dad and brothers. Her mother had died when the ginger was still a teenager. _And Brittany is still looking at me!_ Santana thought, feeling it again, even though she was actively trying to ignore it. She felt tempted to storm off there and have words with her ex-wife, but a part of her was actually rather glad that she still, at least, cared enough to watch. _God, how twisted has this become?_ Santana pondered inwardly.

"No. God, that would kill him…" Riley trailed on with a dejected tone of voice, and then she took a sip of wine. "He's a traditional Irish bloke, you know? All he talks about is how proud he is that I'll be the first Callahan to get a degree, and it would just break his heart to know that I have to strip in order to achieve that. You see, he can't help me financially and he would surely blame himself for everything," Riley added candidly while Santana nodded her comprehension.

"How about your brothers? Do they know?"

"None either. Just two of my sisters-in-law."

"Well, it must be hard. Keeping it from them, I mean," Santana said after swallowing some food. Strangely enough she had no problems with the ginger's _other job_. Santana bore no jealousy feelings whatsoever. Her mind couldn't help but travel to a certain blonde dancer who, if the cases were reversed, she would probably be dying from it right at that moment. The brunette started wondering if Brittany had been wrong all along and _with feelings_ was actually _not_ better. Not better _at all_. Because, at that very instant in time, Santana was very much enjoying the position she found herself in. No mess, no complications… just fun. It certainly suited her true nature. That singing girl had it all figured out: love and pain really _do_ go hand in hand. And Santana surely couldn't do it again.

"It is, but it's almost over now. One more semester, and I am done with it all," Riley replied with a wide smile. "But enough about me!" The emerald-eyed woman exclaimed with animation, leaning a bit further into the table due to excitement while she finished chewing a meatball. "What about you and your family? I know you don't have any siblings and that your parents passed away. But, what about other relatives? Are you close?"

"Both my dad and my mom didn't have any siblings. Sorry to disappoint but it appears I'm the last Lopez standing," Santana said playfully with a tight-lipped smile before taking a sip of her water. "Aside from Zoey, obviously," she added with a full-blown smile, which Riley noticed always graced her date's lips whenever she talked about her kid.

"Well, you gotta do something about that, you know, reproduce more," Riley replied just as playfully before bringing the napkin to her cherry coloured lips. "Those genes of yours are too nice to waste," she added flirtatiously with a gracious toothy smile.

"Aren't you an incorrigible flirt?" Santana shot back teasingly, flashing Riley a toothy smile herself.

"What can I say? Lopez people seem to have this strange appealing effect on me," the redhead stated faux-coyly, holding the brown-eyed woman's stare with confidence. "I say the more the merrier."

"Oh, _really_?" The brunette countered mischievously, not dropping the other woman's emerald-green stare. "Because I think this is just one of your ploys to get into my pants," Santana joked with a loud laugh, which grabbed Brittany's attention once again. The dancer hadn't stopped stealing glances here and there, even though Santana decided to ignore that knowledge many moments ago.

Riley laughed out loud whole-heartedly and Brittany's heart ached as she shared her meal with Jenna, trying her best to keep up with her end of the conversation whilst being this distracted.

"You may be right," Riley said softly, her laughter still not completely dead in her throat. "I just can't help the fact that I like you, Santana _Lopez_," she added seriously, running her foot up the brunette's calf. Of course Brittany had to witness that little move as well and she hated herself for being so morbidly curious.

Santana smiled lightly back at her date. As long as it was '_like_' she was fine with it. She had no intentions of leading on or hurting anyone, but she desperately wanted to keep taking steps forward. Despite her inner reluctance. She and Riley had engaged in heated make-out sessions in the past but she never managed to successfully bring herself to go all the way. Something – and/or someone, if she were to be completely honest with herself – always seemed to hold her back.

"Well, I like you, too," Santana responded honestly. And she really did. The girl was funny, sharp and carefree. Altogether a nice distraction from her gloomy thoughts. However, she knew it would never go beyond 'like', hence her reservations. She fought the strong urge to steal a glance backwards at a certain blonde dancer.

"Now, quit stalling and let's use these flashcards," Santana added lightly with a small smile, changing the subject to less troublesome topics whilst they enjoyed their dinner. It was needed.

* * *

><p>Santana parked her black Range Rover in front of Riley's four storey apartment building after their dinner was over.<p>

"Here we are…" Santana announced with a tight-lipped smile as she killed the engine.

"Here we are…" Riley repeated her words morosely wearing a similar kind of smile as she unbuckled the seatbelt and turned around to face her date. After a beat, she added tentatively, "So, do you want to come inside for a cup of coffee?"

"Nah, I think I've had more than enough of everything back at the restaurant," the brunette replied with a strained chuckle, trying to politely get out of it once more while holding the ginger's stare. This wasn't a novelty in their relationship. Riley was ready to take the next step, which Santana was clearly avoiding like the plague.

"And what if I told you that coffee was actually a code word for make-out?" The ginger woman asked playfully with a cheeky smile on her lips. Santana was more used to her sassy bluntness by then.

Santana chuckled genuinely. "Well, then I'd tell you that I don't think Tasha and Sabrina are up for the floor show," the brown-eyed woman quipped, unbuckling her own seatbelt to turn to her date freely.

"Tasha is covering my shift at the club and Sabrina is certainly studying in her room. This test is driving the girl mental, I'll tell you. So… I don't think we would be bothered," Riley said with an animated tone of voice. She knew none of her roommates would really mind.

_Shit, the girl really didn't make things easy_; Santana thought. "Listen, Riley, I really, _really_ appreciate the offer but I think it's best if I go home," Santana said softly, trying to brush off the girl gently. It's not that she didn't find the ginger attractive or that she didn't want this. She would be a liar if she stated otherwise. But she _really_ didn't want to hurt her.

"Alright," the redhead said in a low, defeated tone, hanging her head against her chest for a second before returning them to Santana. "But before you go I want you to know that I get it, ok? I understand that you probably have some things to figure out on an emotional level. I mean, I'm not blind, I've seen something there when we met your ex…" Brittany had thought she had been discreet but the redhead had caught some of her stolen glances.

Santana was about to interject, but Riley held up a hand and continued tenderly, "You don't have to explain anything to me, Santana. I can see that I don't have all the details and that you are extremely guarded with your feelings…"

The brunette doctor really had told her very little about her prior relationship and its fallout. Riley paused for a bit as Santana paid attention to her speech.

"And I also just want you to know that I'll wait," Riley said wearing a sympathetic smile. "Because I have a hunch that you're worthy," she added calmly without any sort of agenda.

Santana didn't know what to say to that. So, she went with some self-deprecating humour, "I wouldn't bet on it." And she flashed Riley a forced smile. She wasn't lying.

And she wasn't expecting it. Riley rarely talked seriously like that. The redhead had a rather Zen approach to things. And she started thinking about all the stuff that was holding her back: her fear of hurting the woman, her reservation about stringing her along, the dread about the chain of consequences it could cause, and undoubtedly and more prominently… Brittany. But _Brittany_ was just celebrating her _wedding anniversary_. _Brittany_ certainly would be getting something that night. If she remembered correctly the blue-eyed woman always became quite frisky and wild on special occasions. _Not only on special occasions_; Santana's mind insisted on rubbing it in while displaying vomit-inducing images of Jenna touching her wife, _ex-wife_ all over. Why shouldn't she be able to do the same?

"Well, I am," Riley replied with a warm smile before slowly leaning in and capturing Santana's lips with her own. It was a sweet kiss instead of a passionate one because she wanted to convey her words the best way she could.

Pulling back the emerald-eyed woman added serenely, "Goodnight, Santana." And she went about to open the door of the car but Santana's delicate hand on her wrist stopped her. Riley looked at the brunette expectantly.

Santana swallowed the lump in her throat and mustered up enough courage to ask, "How about I take you back home with me so we can have breakfast together?"

"But we just –" Riley began to say but noticed the wicked little smile and the tentative eyes of her date, and then it dawned on her. "Oh…" She trailed on, matching Santana's smile.

"So?" Santana asked gingerly, looking at the woman in the eye.

"I would love to," the redhead replied with a wide smile, suddenly feeling a million butterflies in her stomach. Riley wasn't used to that. She was always ever-so-confident, aloof and self-assured. She rather liked the new feeling.

"Ok, then," Santana stated briefly, turning the car back on after buckling her seatbelt. _No going back now Santana_; she thought to herself. _I hope you know what you're doing…_

* * *

><p>The next morning Brittany entered her parents' kitchen through the outside back door. It was never kept locked and something about that small town trade always managed to warm up the dancer.<p>

As Brittany entered and closed the door behind her, she saw her Mom bringing the breakfast dishes from the table to the sink. "Hi, Mom!" The younger blonde greeted with a congenial smile on her lips while unbuttoning her coat.

Annie, who had her back to her daughter, instantly turned around from the sink to greet her back. "Hey, sweetie! Good morning," the woman said in a cheery tone, walking back to the table. "Did you have breakfast already?" She added as an invitation whilst her daughter hung the black coat on a hook behind the door.

"Yeah, I did. Thanks," Brittany replied offhandedly, turning around to face Annie who finished taking the last of the things to the sink. "Where's Zoey? I hope she wasn't too much trouble last night," the dancer said casually, watching her mother start washing the dishes.

"Oh, she's upstairs playing," Annie informed, soaping a plate with ease while Brittany came to stand beside her with a dish towel in hands. "And she was no trouble whatsoever. She and your Dad played hide-and-seek the whole evening. Frankly, I can't tell which one of them wore the other out more," she added with a wide smile, handing her daughter the plate to dry which she quickly did.

Brittany laughed as she went about to put the clean, dried plate in the cupboard. "I can safely say that Zoey always win in that department," the dancer stated with a smirk. "Where's Dad anyways?"

"Oh, he's at the factory," Annie replied dismissively. "I'll tell you, that man puts in as many hours there as he did before retiring altogether. I've never met someone as into Union business as your Dad. He's like their personal Norma Rae," the blue-eyed woman joked, earning a smile from her daughter.

"But, really, Mom; thanks for watching her," Brittany said softly, coming back to lean on the counter beside Annie.

"Our pleasure," Annie replied without missing a beat as she worked on a coffee mug. "So, how was your night? Did you and Jenna have a nice anniversary?" The blue-eyed older woman asked with interest, looking sideways at her first born.

"Mmhmm…" Brittany hummed her confirmation, taking the mug from her mother. "It's was fine," she amended nonchalantly, turning around to store the dried item.

Picking up on her daughter's strange tone, the older Pierce woman turned around to face her. Annie turned off the water and held Brittany's stare as the dancer closed the cabinet.

Meeting her Mom's inquisitive gaze, Brittany asked in a blasé tone as she made her way back to the older blonde's side, "What?"

Annie simply shook her head with a tight-lipped knowing smile playing on her lips. Her look alone conveyed to her daughter the message behind it, but she voiced it anyhow, "You really think that will work on _me_? C'mon, out with it…"

Brittany sighed, letting the dish towel fall on top of the counter before leaning her back against it again. The washing was clearly forgotten by both women. Her Mom was terribly sharp to be deceived anyways. Hers and Ally's attempts in the past never produced good results. So, why bother?

"We kinda bumped into San at Breadstix yesterday night," Brittany informed in her usual monotone voice. It always showed through with more intensity whenever she was nervous. After a beat, she added while staring at her polished nails' cuticles with sudden fascination, "She was on a date with _Riley_." She still hadn't mastered the art of keeping the sneer out of her voice while pronouncing _that_ name.

Brittany couldn't help but remember the aftermath of that _encounter_. How she powerlessly watched Riley helping Santana get into her coat, and how the brunette reciprocated the gesture with ease. How Santana gave her a silent nod of goodbye from the distance before she left, and how her heart dropped to her stomach as the two women crossed the front door out of the restaurant. Her mind running horrid scenarios after playing and replaying Riley's 'get into her pants' remark…

…And, worst of all, how those particular thoughts drove her actions after she and Jenna arrived at their place. How she pursued and hungrily took her wife's body. How demanding, assertive and greedy she had been throughout the act. She could tell at the time that Jenna was surprised. Turned on, _clearly_, but definitely surprised. They had a healthy, natural sex life. Once a week, or maybe less if work had been too draining and whatnot. Something normal, the dancer thought to herself when she was firstly thrown into that situation. Nothing too crazy. Nothing compared to her and Santana, of course. Like Quinn had once said, they were sort of like two sex deviants. It wasn't like they planned on it or rehearsed it. They just had that sort of thing, that sort of chemistry where the simplest and most innocent of touches, caresses, kisses… _everything_ seemed to take life of its own, will of its own and develop into something more, something more heated and out of control. And, in earnest, Brittany never made comparisons. Not because she didn't want to, but because they simply couldn't be compared. It wouldn't be fair on Jenna. She and Santana had over a decade of history together. Intimacy takes time and, to be frank, she was more than grateful to the green-eyed woman for her patience and understanding ways when they initially got together. It took a lot of time for the dancer to open up, to feel that it was ok to be touched again by… by someone else. Yes, she owed Jenna a lot.

One more reason why Brittany felt horrible and ashamed for her behaviour the previous night, and for its obvious mismatched motivations. Thank God Jenna felt too thrilled and satisfied to notice anything out of the ordinary, which didn't make the dancer feel better one bit. Things were just spiraling out of her control and she was trying hard to keep the landslide from coming down on their heads.

"Oh, honey," Annie offered with sympathy, trying to catch her daughter's fleeting gaze as she ran a comforting hand on the dancer's upper arm. She managed to lock eyes with Brittany before she added softly, "That must have been hard." She paused for a brief moment. "Not to mention awkward."

"It was… It really was," Brittany replied in the lowest of tones. It pained Annie to see the void in her daughter's blue eyes. "But I know it's not serious. Santana and _Riley_, I mean," she added, more to herself – more to _convince_ herself, really – than to her mother. Brittany was clinging to that thought like a child clung to their mother's skirt. It was the only thing that brought her some solace. However twisted that may be.

"How do you know, sweetie?" Annie asked just as softly, guiding Brittany to the kitchen table so they could sit and talk properly. "I think it's safer to be prepared for everything. And, you know, Santana has every right to move forward with her life," the older Pierce added wisely as they finally sat at the table.

Annie just wanted to make sure Brittany didn't get hurt… more than necessary. More than she knew she already would. After raising the baby into the woman who sat in front of her, Annie knew exactly how her daughter's thinking worked. And it worked in a fairly linear and simplistic way. Both to Brittany's advantage and disadvantage.

"I know she has the right, ok?" Brittany replied with a small pout. A little disgruntled by her Mom's need to confront her with that harsh reality. "And I know it isn't serious because _Riley_ told me herself she hasn't met Zoey yet. If it were serious Santana would have introduced them already," Brittany added with more confidence. Satisfied with her logic since it wasn't really her specialty.

"Alright, alright," Annie conceded gently, holding her daughter's hand on top of the table. "I just say that because I'd hate to see you getting hurt, Britt," the older woman added, flashing the dancer a warm smile.

"I know, Mom," the blue-eyed blonde replied honestly, matching Annie's smile. "I just –" Brittany's eyes were downcast and the smile faded. "I knew it wouldn't be easy, but I've never thought it would be _this_ hard." Her piercing blue eyes returned to her mother's. "And I'm really trying, you know? Really, _really _trying... I don't think I've ever worked this hard. And I knew my feelings for Santana wouldn't disappear. I never could stop loving her." She smiled sadly. "Not even when I wanted to, let alone _now_," Brittany bared her soul with affliction in her tone of voice as Annie took a slow, deep breath while tightening the grip on her girl's hand. Because, no matter how grown up she was, Brittany would _always_ be that to her: her little girl.

The fact about Brittany is that she _hated_ confrontation. She hated scary shadows of tree branches that creeped into the bedroom at night as well, but that's beside the point and something she mainly kept to herself these days. Either way, she _hated_ confrontation; especially ones that could – and certainly would – lead to heartbreak. Brittany's train of thought was very direct. There was really no room to factor in the ripples of actions, only actions in themselves. And Brittany was a sweet natured, unselfish woman. A textbook example of a pathological altruist. She didn't want to hurt anybody… Au contraire. Therefore, to her, she was doing just that: not damaging anyone. However, she couldn't help but feel caught up in between whom she was and what she yearned to do. Safe to say it was not a good, peaceful place to be. Turmoil ruled her life.

"I understand, sweetie. I really do," Annie replied with empathy, her heart breaking for her sweet girl. "You've made your choice –" the older Pierce began to add, but was interrupted by the dancer.

"You think I had a choice?" Brittany asked with furrowed eyebrows, retracting her hand from her mother's as a reflex. "If you do than you really don't understand it at all," the blue-eyed dancer added with disbelief, holding Annie's stare.

Again, Annie knew her daughter's thinking. So, she simply said in her sweet motherly tone, "You may have a point, dear." She reclaimed her daughter's hand with a smile. "But, whatever the case may be, you must know that you can't have your cake and eat it too."

Brittany took in her mother's wise words and nodded after a beat of silent reflection. "I know that. You're right," the younger blonde conceded, awarding Annie with a truce-laced little smile. After a beat Brittany added flatly in question, her monotone heavy, "When did life become so hard?"

Annie's smile broadened and she patted Brittany's hand a couple of times for good measure. She took the question as it was, though: rhetorical. And she stated evenly, "No matter how hard it gets, and no matter what choice you do or do not make, rest assured that your Dad and I will always be there for you. We'll always support you. _Always_."

Brittany's smile widened as well. Her Mom's amazing ways never failed to make her a bit happier. "Thanks, Mom. I really enjoy our talks," she said with sheer honesty, shifting her palm to give Annie's hand an appreciative squeeze.

"Not as much as I do," Annie replied with a wink.

"I really should go and get Zoey. She's going to be late for school," Brittany stated matter-of-factly, standing up from the kitchen table to do just so.

As Brittany walked away Annie couldn't help but let out a sigh and proceed to worry about her first born.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Santana leaned against one of the counters at the doctors' lounge with a disposable cup filled with coffee in her hands. She was deeply lost in thoughts. Thoughts about last night, about her unfortunate encounter with Brittany and Jenna, and about her night – her <em>first <em>night – with Riley. Just like the last time she had had sex with Scott her night with Riley was good enough, but when push turned to shove it had just been that: sex. Perhaps that's why she was putting it off for that long. One side of her wanted to hold on to the possibility of being able to make love yet again, even though the other side knew quite well those chances were slim to none. There have been more differences between her last two sexual encounters, obviously. She cared about Riley. She _knew_ her. The redhead wasn't just some random stranger in a plane, and yet… she still did not love her.

Santana had been right about foreseeing one thing, though: comparisons were ever-present in her mind last night. How different Riley's skin felt under her touch, how strange it felt getting glimpses of bold _red_ hair as they tossed and turned in bed, how odd was the fact that her body seemed to be so used to the exact weight of her ex on top of her and how it could tell the difference… And after their night of passion – because it really had been a good night despite all: different, albeit fun and sexy; Riley had satisfied her and she was sure that she had satisfied the ginger as well – it pained her to realize that Brittany had been right all along. She had tried to fight it and she had tried to refute that damned point but… _with_ feelings, and _with_ love, was definitely better. Plus, she missed that unbelievable feeling of intimacy… which she only ever shared with one person.

However, she had to come to blows with her new reality. Brittany wasn't hers anymore and she was determined to move on with her life. Just because you don't get who you want – the only person you _ever_ wanted, really – doesn't mean you can't have a good, full life anymore, right? She _cared_ about Riley. That must count for something, right? For all Santana knew that was what most people got out of a romantic relationship. And she might have been pretentious when she though this, but she doubted many people loved with the intensity and the certainty with which she loved Brittany. All she knew was that that morning she had woken up to _not_ an empty bed, and despite the fact that mornings weren't her favourite part of the day anymore – because of a certain dancer, or lack thereof – it didn't mean that she couldn't enjoy the feeling of a warm body beside her. _Right?_ Riley was nice, agreeable and gorgeous. She should be thanking the gods for finding someone like that in the middle of freakin' Lima, Ohio. Right? _Right._ However, she couldn't separate the good side from the bad one. The good feelings from the bad ones. And that internal conflict and struggle were driving her insane.

Santana was brought back to reality by a hand waving in front of her face. "Earth to Santana?" Maggie asked playfully in her pink scrubs.

"Oh, sorry…" the brunette replied with her eyes closed as she shook her head out of her reverie, still leaning against the counter. "I was just –" she began to add but was cut off by the nurse.

"Taking a tour of Thought-land," Maggie completed the doctor's sentence with a chuckle as she grabbed one of the disposable coffee cups from the top of the counter. "I've noticed it," she added, going for the pot of the coffee maker to grab some while Santana took a sip of her own coffee and grimaced slightly.

Looking sideways and seeing that Maggie was about to pour some coffee for herself, Santana stated in earnest, "I wouldn't do that." The curly-haired nurse stopped mid-motion and gave her friend a puzzled look that clearly meant '_do elaborate_', which Santana did by adding simply, "Garcia made it."

Maggie displayed an '_I get it_' face as she nodded – because Garcia was well known for making weak, insufferable, overly sweet coffee whenever it was her turn – before putting the coffee cup back and walking towards the doctors' lounge's fridge.

"And why are _you_ drinking _that_?" Maggie questioned playfully with her back turned to Santana as she made her way to the fridge.

"Uncontrollable case of self-loathe?" Santana quipped offhandedly, taking another sip of the light-coloured liquid and reflexively grimacing again while she pushed herself off the counter and headed to the couch.

Maggie grabbed a little yogurt bottle from the fridge and while the door was still opened she asked, "Want one?"

Santana just shook her head from side to side as she flattened her white doctor's coat before taking a seat on the big couch.

Assessing the number of yogurts she still had left before closing the fridge, Maggie shook her head before saying in a huff, "Man, someone already drank one without permission! What's wrong with these people?"

"I know, right? Last week some bastard ate the brownie I left in there that Zoey baked for me," Santana replied in a huff as well while Maggie took a seat next to her. "I even put a post-it on the wrapping with my name… That's why I ate someone's good-looking sandwich for lunch a couple of days ago. Tit for tat, right?"

Maggie smiled into her yogurt when they heard the nurse's name being called through the speakers. "Jesus, what does a girl have to do to drink a yogurt in peace?" Maggie quipped whilst standing up.

"Quit the medical profession?" Santana chanced with a smile, taking another sip of the bad coffee.

"We'll talk about your trip to Thought-land later," the nurse called out as she headed to the exit door of the doctors' lounge.

"I wouldn't count on that," Santana replied matter-of-factly in a loud tone, putting her feet up on the coffee table as her friend let the room through the swinging door with a smile. The last thing she wanted was to talk about all the conflicting events that transpired last night.

As Santana nibbled on the edge of her almost empty disposable coffee cup her cell phone went off. Taking the device out of her white coat's pocket, Santana let out a tiny smile at the sight of the smiling blonde on the screen.

The brown-eyed woman answered the call and before she could even say 'hello' she heard, "That guy… that guy that did Pilates classes with us, you know, average height, overly skinny, pedo 'stache… We always made fun of him behind his back… What was his name again?"

"Well, hello to you too, Quinn," Santana replied sarcastically and overly sweetly, "Yeah, it is a good morning indeed. Oh, I'm great, thanks for asking! And how are you?"

"I'm crunching numbers in the studio," the petite blonde manager who had graduated in business from Columbia replied dismissively and matter-of-factly, "And Rach is waiting on some people for a brunch meeting. There's no time for pleasantries."

"Wait," Santana replied, furrowing her brows, "Is this a party line? You know how I hate party lines, especially when people _don't_ express that fact in the very beginning of the call," the brunette added in a huff, taking another sip of coffee. It _was_ self-loathe for sure.

"Hello, Santana!" Rachel greeted cheerfully in her usual high-pitched tone. "Good morning," the petite brunette added, succeeding in pleasantry where her wife had failed.

"People, focus here," Quinn piped in, not even letting Santana reply to Rachel. "Now, Santana… What was the guy's name?" She asked with interest.

"How will I know the name of some weirdo I haven't seen in years?" The doctor quipped quickly without even taking some time to think.

Quinn sighed in frustration and said, "Come on… think."

"Why are you so interested in this anyway?" Santana asked evenly, taking the last sip of her terrible coffee. And grimacing… _again_.

"She –" Rachel began to say but her wife cut her off.

Quinn dismissed Santana's question and Rachel's attempt to chime in as she interjected with hope in her tone of voice, prompting her friend, "It was something that rhymed…"

Santana didn't know why or how, but as soon as Quinn said that the name popped in her head. So, she took a deep breath and decided to be cooperative for once, "Lloyd Boyd. Happy?"

"Extremely," Quinn stated, jubilant. "He's in this play that will run against Rachel's (hopefully) next production and she wouldn't believe it was the same guy unless you backed me up on the name. So, thank you very much! And you, dear wife, owe me fifty bucks." Santana could even picture the blonde's smug grin.

"Well, I'll make you repay me in other ways," Rachel said nonchalantly with sassiness, hating to lose the bet.

"Ew… thanks for the mental image, Dwarf. _Not_!" Santana said with disgust.

"I have to go, ladies. The rest of my party has just arrived. Wish me luck," Rachel said in an even more annoying tone of excitement.

"Good luck, honey!" Quinn replied promptly and the theater woman ended her end of the call. "She's meeting with the producer of her next play and some investors, you know, trying to milk some more money to get the thing off the page."

"Right," Santana replied casually, finally placing the empty coffee cup on top of the coffee table. "Well, I hope she gets it," she added offhandedly.

"I'm sure to pass her your sentiments. She'll be glad to know," Quinn said cheekily. Her friend liked to tease her wife, but deep down she loved her.

"Whatever, Fabray," Santana replied, trying her best to sound blasé.

"So, how was the date yesterday?" Quinn asked nonchalantly, making conversation.

"I thought you were in a rush," Santana shot back with a slight bite. "Go back to crunching numbers, or whatever it was that you were doing. Besides, I gotta go save some lives."

"_Please_, I could hear you sipping coffee all the way over here," Quinn scoffed knowingly.

An intern entered the doctors' lounge and Santana simply glared at her since, you know, she was partaking in a private conversation on the phone, and the young woman promptly turned on her heels and walked back out. Every intern knew not to get on Dr. Lopez's bad side.

"Either way, it's none of your business," Santana said evenly, switching her phone to another ear.

"_You_ made it my business the instant you called _me_ before your first date with Riley asking for insight on a dating world you claimed to have zero knowledge of at this point in your life."

"And I _seriously_ don't know what I was thinking. Asking _you_ for dating insight? You've been domesticated for as long as I can remember." Brief pause. "By a garden gnome, nonetheless."

"_Hey!_ That 'garden gnome' happens to love me." Small pause. "Like I've always wanted to be loved. And I love her, too. Plus, for the record, she's not even that shorter than you. Or me."

Santana felt a pang of jealousy as she heard Quinn describing something she had, lost and wouldn't be getting back again. _Ever_. Instead of demonstrating that feeling, Santana deflected with sarcasm as she replied, "Aww… you being all sweet and genuine both thrills and scares me, Fabray."

"Screw you, Lopez. And you could have called Jimmy for advice if you wanted to, but you didn't. You called _me_."

"And endure his endless teasing? No, thank you very much."

"Stop fighting and just get out with it, for crying out loud!" Quinn said with exasperation. "We could have ended this conversation already if you weren't so damn stubborn. You're so much work, woman… You know that, don't you?"

Santana slowly took a deep breath and let it out rapidly. She fought but she always caved eventually. It was their dance and something about consistence seemed extra appealing to the brunette in that point in life.

So, Santana started to talk a mile a minute with little thought, "The date went fine. Fine until we ran into Brittany and fucking Jenna, that is. Celebrating a wedding anniversary no less..." She stopped briefly for a sardonic chuckle. "Suffice to say awkwardness was the star of the night and, at one point, I thought I'd actually have to get up and knock some teeth off Brittany's distinguished wife's mouth. I didn't, though. Breathe easily. And I slept with Riley."

"Wait, what?" Quinn asked with surprise.

"I almost knocked some –" Santana began to repeat her latest statements with an eerie level of calm before the blonde cut her off.

"No. Not that," the hazel-eyed woman said dismissively. "You slept with Riley?" She asked softly.

"Yes, I did," Santana replied casually, trying to sound like it wasn't a big deal.

Quinn took a moment to let the news sink in and the line went silent as Santana didn't feel the slightest inclination to fill in the vacuum of words.

"Wow, that was a big step, San," Quinn finally said in her delicate tone of voice after gathering up her thoughts.

"I suppose," the brown-eyed doctor conceded honestly. She knew it was, but she didn't feel like announcing it out loud for some reason.

"So, is Riley your girlfriend now? How are you feeling?" The petite blonde asked with genuine preoccupation, which the brunette picked up on immediately.

Santana smiled a little smile and replied evenly, "You are a nosy one, aren't you, Q? But, I'll let you know once I figure it out. And that goes for both accounts." No matter how uncertain she felt, the brunette doctor's voice rarely showed it.

Another silence engulfed them.

This time, Santana broke it as she stated half wistfully, half solemnly, "Life really does go on, huh?" And she smiled into the phone. Not that Quinn could see it.

"I suppose," came Quinn's shadowy, weak response. A brief pause before the blonde amended, "Are you happy, S?" In the end that was all that really mattered to the hazel-eyed woman. Her friend, her _friends_, didn't deserve that. That was for sure.

Santana splurged on a brief out loud laugh. "You and your tough questions, Fabray…" She trailed on with some amusement amidst _everything_. She paused for a moment to ponder her response. She wanted to be happy, that was a given. Could she be? Entirely, that is. That was another animal completely. For the time being she would certainly settle for being content, because a part of her knew that that was the highest she could honestly aim for. With or without Riley in the equation. So, after a moment Santana added, "I'm not miserable anymore…"

The brunette was about to say more when she and the blonde heard her name being called through the hospital's speakers.

Santana ignored it for a bit and resumed her thoughts, "…I guess that's a step up, right?"

It was Quinn's turn to smile on the other end of the line unbeknownst to her doctor friend. "It definitely is, San. It definitely is…" Quinn repeated in her delicate tone once again.

"I really have to go now, Q. Duty calls," Santana said playfully and it amazed even herself how quickly she could make these transitions from one disposition to another.

"Alright," Quinn conceded evenly.

Before she could end the call, Santana said in a low tone, "Oh, and Quinn…" She paused and the blonde waited. "Thanks," she added in hushed tone. _Thanks_ and _sorry_ were never easy things for the brunette to utter but, when she did, she always meant it.

"Anytime," came Quinn's soft reply, because it was the absolute truth.

And with that they ended the call and both resumed their daily professional activities. _The wonders of friends…_

* * *

><p>A couple of days later Santana entered Brittany's dance studio to fetch Zoey for their daily walk with Poppy. On Wednesdays Brittany had to take the girl there after school. The brunette doctor was running later than usual, so she quickly passed by the empty front desk with the dog by her side on its leash and made her way to the glass window of the classroom. The sight before her made Santana smile her big, genuine smile. Brittany was teaching some senior citizens what it looked like some sort of ballroom dance as their daughter free-styled, twirling around the old folks and managing to charm all of them in the process. Ballroom dance wasn't exactly Brittany's style and surely back in New York she wouldn't be teaching that – let alone to old people. Back in the day she was mainly immersed in choreography, which was her favourite thing about dancing aside from <em>actual<em> dancing but, as Santana looked on, mesmerized by the gracious blonde beauty before her, she could see her smiling brightly, which led the brunette to believe that she didn't terribly mind the change of tune. And that knowledge made her feel warm inside for some reason. Not for '_some reason'_, actually. Santana _knew_ the fact was that she never did shake the desire of seeing Brittany happy. It was all she ever wanted… and that hasn't changed. Even after all these years the words she wrote in a stupid yearbook still rang as true as ever.

Santana decided to just stand there, wait and enjoy the view of their daughter and her other mother dancing and having fun. It pleased her. She had always arrived before that class and never had the opportunity to witness the show. The brunette didn't have to wait long, though. Ten minutes later and the class was over. After every old pupil left the classroom, Santana made her way inside with Poppy.

Brittany was fussing with her sports bag that sat on top of one of the benches by the back of the classroom while Zoey danced animatedly in front of the mirrored wall to the instrumental piece that still played in the background.

"Hey, San!" Brittany greeted with a broad smile, catching the sight of the brunette for the first time. "And Poppy," she added with the same enthusiasm, looking down at the pet.

"Hi, Britts," Santana replied with a smaller smile, stuffing the hand that wasn't holding the dog's leash into her grey tweed coat's pocket.

Zoey, who had heard her Mama's name, came running towards the brunette and hugged her leg fiercely.

"Whoa, easy there, bug," Santana said with a wide smile, digging her hand back from the inside of her coat's pocket to place on the kid's back affectionately.

"You came!" Zoey exclaimed a bit too loudly, looking up at her Mama through the hug with big blue eyes as Brittany watched on with adoration while wiping her face with a small towel previously retrieved from the sports bag.

"Of course I did," Santana replied matter-of-factly, looking down at their kid.

"You're late," the little girl announced with a Brittany-like pout, not very pleased.

"I know and I'm sorry, Z. I got held up at the hospital," Santana explained in her gentlest tone, stealing a glance at Brittany and receiving a look of amused sympathy.

"Someone was worried that you weren't going to show up," Brittany informed casually, holding Santana's stare while carelessly throwing the towel on top of her bag.

"But Mommy said that you would because you _never_ break a promise," the kid stated resolutely as Santana squatted down to be at face level with their girl. And then the brown-eyed woman looked over at Brittany and, for a mere instant, they shared this peculiar type of symbiotic look that conveyed much more than a thousand words ever could.

"Well, your Mommy is a very wise woman and she's absolutely right," Santana said tenderly, hugging her daughter affectionately with one arm as she directed her whole attention back to the kid. She then planted a hard kiss on Zoey's cheek and added, "Here," Santana passed the red leash to the little girl, "All yours."

Zoey hugged the puppy under two pairs of devoted eyes and then she started to run around the spacious classroom with Poppy behind her.

"So, nice t-shirt," Santana stated faux-nonchalantly, tucking her fleeting bangs behind her ear. Brittany was wearing the navy-blue Columbia tee the brown-eyed woman gave her. Santana had noticed it before but was waiting for the right moment to make her remark.

Brittany looked down reflexively with a water bottle in hand and the motion made her high ponytail bounce adorably. She had been using the t-shirt more than she would have cared to admit. "Isn't it?" The blue-eyed woman reiterated cheekily, smiling from ear to ear. "I think so, too," she added, reconnecting her eyes with the brunette's while taking a swig of water.

"The person who gave it to you clearly has exquisite taste," Santana said with an impish smile taking over her lips as they heard Zoey's giggles reverberate through the almost bare room.

"Naturally," Brittany replied immediately, nodding her head repeatedly as she keenly played along.

They laughed lightly out loud with downcast eyes and Santana said, changing the subject as she stuffed both hands in her black skinny jeans' pockets, "Sorry for being late…" She quickly pondered thanking the dancer for having her back with Zoey, but eventually decided against it. She knew Brittany knew. "I got held up with the damned amount of paperwork and I _hate_ paperwork," she said instead.

"Yeah, I have some _vague_ remembrance of that," Brittany said playfully. Santana had always bitched endlessly in the past about the 'damned' paperwork when she took them home. "And it was totally fine," the blonde added, capping the water bottle and putting in her sports bag.

Santana smiled knowingly and they fell in silence, only staring comfortably at each other for a while as Zoey run up and down and about. The kid did have heaps of energy stored in that little body of hers.

Brittany felt this powerful urge to ask Santana about her date with Riley. An urge that could not be deterred. She hadn't been able to be alone with her ex in the last couple of days and her masochist curiosity was getting the best out of her.

So, Brittany asked with as much calm and nonchalance as she could muster, "So, Santana… How was, you know, your date with Riley?" Thank God she managed to get the sneer out while pronouncing the ginger's name.

Santana shot the dancer her best '_Seriously? Are you really going to go there?_' look and after the blonde held her stare with resolution Santana decided to play along. "It was good," she offered curtly, unconsciously holding her head slightly up. "Your anniversary?" Santana asked without skipping a beat. She would rather be damned than lose face.

"Good," Brittany replied instantly, feeling like an ass for even bringing this up but still not thoroughly satisfied with herself. "So –" She began to add but Santana decided to cut her off. The brunette wasn't feeling like yet another trip to Awkwardville.

"Hey, Zoey! It's time we go, munchkin," Santana said in a slightly loud tone, speaking over the dancer who simply decided to let go of her fool's errand. No good would come out of that.

"I'll walk out with you guys," Brittany announced, turning around to grab her sports bag as Zoey rejoined her mommies with a happy Poppy by her side. "That was my last class today," the dancer added, slinging her big bag on her shoulder.

They made their way outside into the evening and Santana and Zoey waited as Brittany locked up the studio's front door, making sure to double-check it. Sometimes she could be very airheaded, so she always made sure to double-check.

"We'll stop by the coffee shop so I can get a fix, ok? I'm just saying because we may take a while longer and I don't want you worrying over nothing," Santana said as she and their daughter watched Brittany toss her sports bag in her car's passenger seat through the front window.

"Ok," Brittany replied, turning around to face her ladies. Well, her _lady_ and Santana. "But you shouldn't be drinking any coffee at this hour, S. You know it will only keep you up at night," the blue-eyed woman added knowingly, finishing her prediction with a smile.

It was remarkable how Santana hated and loved Brittany's knowledge on her person. "I think I'll take my chances, thank you very much," the brunette doctor replied with her typical for-show petulance, which was extremely different from her actual petulance.

Zoey watched them talk with a happy expression on her face while firmly holding Poppy's leash like a big girl as Santana had taught her. And at that very instant everything sort of came together and it magically clicked in the kid's head the fact that she wanted her mommies to be together. Like Jeremy's parents were. And Gracie's… She should think and do something about that, the kid pondered.

"You should get tea instead," Brittany insisted as they stood on the sidewalk in front of the studio.

"You and Jimmy and your obsession with tea…" Santana trailed with scoff. "I'll be getting a nice coffee and Zoey a nice hot cocoa, isn't that right, Z?" The brown-eyed woman added lightly, looking down at their beaming daughter.

"I love hot cocoa!" Zoey said with simple and pure childish excitement, pushing her epiphany to the back-burner.

"Don't we know?" Brittany said, smiling at the little bug.

"Can I have marshmallows?" Zoey asked hopefully, looking up at her mommies.

"As many as you like," Santana said promptly, running a hand through Zoey's silky brown hair.

Suddenly Brittany wanted nothing more than to join them, but she hadn't been exactly invited and even _she_ had some lines she wouldn't cross like inviting herself.

"Yay!" Zoey exclaimed loudly, clapping her hands together without letting go of the leash.

"Alright, let's go," Santana said to Zoey, and then she shifted her gaze to Brittany, "We'll see you in a few."

Brittany nodded sort of sadly and said, trying to sound cheerful, "Have fun, you two!"

"Bye, Mommy!"

And with that Brittany despondently watched Santana and their perfect child walk away from her with the cute dog by their side. Zoey turned around as she walked and waved. Brittany smiled and waved back. It never really did get easier.

* * *

><p>Zoey took a warm bath while playing with a yellow rubber duck in the tub.<p>

"Honey, I'm not hearing your voice," Brittany called from outside of the bathroom. Whenever she wasn't in the bathroom with Zoey she made the kid talk so she could rest assured that everything was ok with her. A mother's thing.

"Sorry, I was playing with Ducky," Zoey replied apologetically, diving the rubber animal under water and pulling it out.

"Ok, but just keep talking to Mommy," Brittany said in her sweet tone.

"Mama and I are trying to teach Poppy to sit down," the blue-eyed girl offered with little consequence.

"Oh, really? That sounds cool," the dancer shot back immediately, sounding extra animated for their daughter's benefit.

"Mmhmm," Zoey simply hummed her agreement.

"And how is she doing so far?" Brittany enquired, entering the bathroom with a basket full of dirty laundry under her right arm.

"Good, I think. Mama and I are watching a show with this dog lady that teaches you how to make your puppy obey you," Zoey said with sheer excitement as she watched her Mommy dump more dirty clothes from the bathroom's bin into the basket.

"Well, I'm sure Poppy will learn in no time," the blonde said with a smile, leaving the basket and kneeling down next to the small bathtub to tend to the little girl.

"Mama said it's all in the '_Tom_' of voice," Zoey said with confidence.

Brittany's smile got even wider and she corrected softly while putting some kid's shampoo in her palm, "_Tone_ of voice, Z." She pondered for a second and added, "I think." And then the dancer began washing the little girl's hair with gentleness.

After Brittany was finished washing the kid's hair and body amidst lots of chit-chat about Zoey's day at kindergarten and such, the blonde said, "Alright, let's get you out of the tub."

Zoey was playing by herself, Ducky forgotten, as she glued her legs together and swirled them up and down the water. "Look, Mommy! I'm like the Little Mermaid," the kid announced through giggles.

"I don't doubt it. Now come on, out you go," Brittany said playfully, holding out a big towel all stretched out to welcome the kid's wet body.

"Riley looks like Ariel," Zoey deadpanned whilst standing up. "Her hair is all long and red and pretty," the kid added with an admiring tone of voice.

Brittany's eyes widened and her jaw dropped slightly at the mention of the ginger's name from Zoey's lips. _When? How? Where did the kid even meet Riley?_ Were a few of the many questions swimming through the dancer's mind.

"Who?" Brittany managed to utter weakly while drying off their daughter's little body outside the tub by the bathroom mat.

"Riley," Zoey repeated like it was no big thing at all, tilting her head as her Mommy worked absentmindedly on drying her long brown hair. "Mama's friend," she added without missing a beat.

"You know her?" The blue-eyed woman prodded timorously, turning Zoey around so she could face her while drying the rest of the kid's body.

Zoey nodded and Brittany kept watching her daughter's big blue eyes as if saying '_go on_' and Zoey didn't disappoint, "She was at the coffee shop earlier."

A thoughts-bound Brittany casted the used towel aside absentmindedly and put a dried Zoey in a panda bathrobe as the kid slipped on her flip-flops.

Shaking her head out of her inner reverie, Brittany said gently with a small smile, "Ok, go ahead and start picking up those colouring books and crayons from your room's floor. I'll be there in a minute to dress you, blow-dry that long hair of yours and tuck you in."

Zoey looked at the kneeling Brittany with a pout that was exactly like the blonde's, and stated whiningly, "But I'm not sleepy yet."

"Well, if you do as I say I'll read you a bedtime story," Brittany replied with a wider smile. Their daughter was way too adorable for their own good.

"_Three_ bedtime stories," Zoey bargained under the cute panda-head hoodie.

"_Two_ and that's my final offer," the dancer countered with a mock serious tone.

Zoey nodded and said with a broad smile dancing on her lips, "But you'll have to do the voices."

"It's a deal, young lady," Brittany stated simply, giving Zoey's behind a playful slap as the kid turned around to head to her room.

In reality Brittany desperately needed those minutes alone to think. _Santana had introduced Zoey to Riley? What made her change her mind? Did it mean that Santana and Riley were serious now?_ The answers scared the dancer and she simply chose not to think about them. Her mind worked overtime to prove herself wrong. Maybe they had all just bumped into each other as a coincidence, an accident. It was certainly possible… Likely even. The town was as small as a shoe box, after all. Yeah, that was it… Those thoughts soothed the blonde a bit. Zoey even said Riley was Santana's _friend_, not _girlfriend_. That counted for a lot as well. Santana definitely must have introduced the redhead that way and it brought Brittany more comfort. But on the other hand they had finally met: Zoey and Riley. That also meant that her ex's relationship was moving forward… willingly or not.

And that thought was most surely daunting.

…

No matter how many rationalizations her head managed to come up with.

* * *

><p><strong>Hope you enjoyed it, people! It won't be long now until the glass overflows, the cracks take down the house, or whatever lame metaphor I tend to overuse ;) But don't be too quick on your assuming, folks... *laughs out loud cryptically* (lolc?)<strong>

**Threatening Britt is fun... Aren't you glad Riley is out of her cage? Now we'll be able to really play in a funnier way :D And I'll shut up because I talk way too much.**  
><strong>Review if you will!<strong>


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Glee _nor its original characters (if I did it would probably be called _The Brittany and Santana Show_, and all the other characters would only be there to help advance their plot).

*** This chapter is sweetly dedicated to: **BumbaMumbaJimJams**, because you were the first to spot one of my many references. Or, at least, the first one who bothered enough to mention *lol* It really was a reference to Miss Marling's tune. The woman is amazingly talented and I think everyone should listen to "Failure" at least once before they die. The world would be a better place. Also to **Shine90**, because I'm a sucker for long reviews and I thank you for the kind words. I agree with most of what you said and I don't get the Brittany hate as well. I think people are just seriously overprotective of Santana, the character, and sometimes their judgement gets a bit clouded by that. Oh, and thanks for pimping my fic, I guess. Let's just hope your friends don't get disappointed if they take upon reading this. To **Amelia Jean**, who took the time to review. Finally! And I'll always apologize for messing with people's sleep. It's something quite sacred to yours truly. Oh, and please, do not overdose on my account *lol* **pacific firebrand**, because you do make me laugh, dude! I wasn't being sarcastic before. I've been told before that my humour sometimes doesn't translate well in emails, texts, messaging and/or other forms of writing, and I guess that is why I tend to abuse of smiling faces. So... My apologies. Anyhow, you did identify one of my seeds that will flourish in chapters to come. The "choice" deal. You're good at that. Congrats!

**Anyways, thanks for the heaps of PMs and reviews! You guys are extremely supportive and I fully appreciate it. I wish I could pick more people but it's getting late and I'm getting mighty tired. This summer time is kicking my ass. So, I hope you enjoy this new chapter. As always it's quite long :)  
>Oh, and thanks to everyone who kindly clued me into the HeMoHe-Man thing. Although, now I wish I hadn't asked. Ignorance sometimes really is bliss ;)  
>Happy reading, folks!<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Mischances, Stances and Stolen Glances<br>**_||Chapter Fifteen||_

Brittany rounded a stack of toilet paper packages as she made her way in the grocery store. She refrained from grabbing one even though they needed it. The blonde thought it best to grab one from the aisle. She always had been terrible with logistics and she feared she would pull the wrong package and everything would come tumbling down, successfully embarrassing the hell out of her.

As she gladly left the toilet papers behind, Brittany spotted a familiar backside of a certain brunette down one of the aisles. The sight brought a reflexive smile to her face. The woman seemed to be reading the back of some product and the dancer started to walk towards the figure, pushing her shopping cart ahead of her.

Stopping right behind the brunette, Brittany cleared her throat audibly and asked evenly, "So, do you come here often, beautiful?"

Santana recognized the voice immediately and turned around with surprise on her face and a glass bottle of extra virgin olive oil in hands, being met by a playful grin on the blonde's lips. The brown-eyed woman opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off immediately by Brittany.

"I'm Susie, by the way," Brittany said with a straight face that was quickly taken over by an impish smile. And then she outstretched her right hand to the brunette.

Santana eyed the offered hand with a perfectly-shaped raised eyebrow. "Susie, huh?" She asked with disbelief all over her playful tone while returning her gaze from the hand to blue eyes, debating whether she should play along or not. Even though there was really no debate at all. They had played that game many times before, but they were together at those times, and the charade usually took the turn of 'yeah, you're really pretty but I happen to have this awesome girlfriend, or fiancé, or wife…' depending on when in time said charade took place '…waiting for me at home'.

The brunette doctor finally shook the offered hand after a beat as she said evenly, "So, _Susie_, tell me something… Do these lame pick-up lines tend to work for ya?" And she flashed a smirk the dancer's way. Their hands were still joined and both women became highly conscientious of that fact as they enjoyed the lingering warm contact with veiled satisfaction.

After seconds that felt like minutes, Santana slowly pulled back her hand and unwillingly made sure to feel the softness of her ex's hand as she performed the retracting motion.

After regaining her breath, Brittany chuckled flirtatiously at Santana's previous remark as she rested her forearms on the cart's handle, leaning her weight against it. "Surprisingly enough, they do. Every time," the blue-eyed woman replied matter-of-factly, keenly carrying on with her own charade.

_Flirting, huh?_ Santana thought with amusement, crossing her arms across her chest while minding the glass bottle. She had always been a firm believer that _two_ could play those kinds of games better_._

So, the brunette looked over the dancer's body from head to toe in a very evident way, and then she stated huskily with a smirk, "I can see why."

Brittany grinned inside and out, feeling and instant rush of heat coursing through her body after that simple once-over wickedly performed by Santana. _The effects this woman has over me…_ The dancer thought before finding her grips to reply coyly and yet sexily confident, "Was that a compliment? Because you're almost getting me to blush…" She trailed on, trying to prompt Santana to reveal her _name _as she held those dark chocolate eyes in silent request.

The brunette kept quiet, willingly ignoring Brittany's tacit question with unabashed amusement as they stood in the middle of aisle number five.

After a beat and no answer, Brittany added sheepishly with a tentative smile while standing up straight again, "I'm sorry, but I didn't catch your name."

"That's because I didn't tell you," Santana shot back with puckish bite before cracking up a grin.

"Aren't you a feisty one?" Brittany pondered out loud, grinning back with pleasure. After skipping a short beat she added confidently, "I _like_ it." And then she winked for good measure, feeling this unbelievable wave of happiness take over her being. Something she hadn't felt in a long, _long_ while. Making her realize how much she had missed _this_… This chemistry, this back-and-forth, this easy sensation of completeness she shared with Santana. No wonder nothing could ever measure up…

Santana's smile turned into a broad one. One that difficultly happened to grace her features. It was remarkable the range of feelings Brittany managed to bring to surface from within her, and with such little effort at that. The brunette was such a lost cause that it wasn't even funny…

"I bet you do, _Susie_," the brown-eyed woman shot back cheekily, stressing the name as she held Brittany's stare for emphasis. "I'm…" she paused to think for a second "…_Dani_, by the way," Santana added breezily, following Brittany's lead on her _name_ choice while the dancer smiled widely at the realization of that.

"That's pretty," Brittany stated offhandedly, and then she added slyly while tightening the grip on the cart's handle for some reason, "So, it definitely suits you."

Santana chuckled a bit, raising both of her eyebrows. "You don't hold back, do you?" She enquired sort of rhetorically, tightening the grip on the olive oil's bottle for some reason.

Brittany bit her bottom lip and began to say in a strangely arousing tone, "No." She shook her head from side to side. "Not when –"

The blonde stopped mid-sentence when she spotted a redhead approaching them: Riley. _For Christ's sakes!_ Brittany exclaimed inwardly; already feeling a weird sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Oh, hey there, Brittany," Riley greeted with a smile, taking a place beside Santana with a wire shopping basket slung on her arm.

"Hi," the dancer replied dryly, faking a smile for appearance's sakes.

"Did you get the salmon?" Santana asked casually, looking to her side at the ginger.

The brunette tried to pay no mind to the horrible feeling in the back of her mind concerning the fact that she had _totally_ forgotten the ginger was even there with her due to her fun make-believe play with Brittany.

Riley nodded and replied playfully, looking at Santana, "I have a small suspicion that the guy behind the seafood counter hates me," she looked at Brittany when she added in clarification, "My Dad and most of my brothers are fishermen, so I tend to be very picky about it."

Brittany didn't know what to say, so she just flashed Riley yet another insincere smile, which Santana let it pass as sincere without mention.

"Did you get the extra virgin olive oil?" Riley asked Santana.

Santana lifted the bottle and replied offhandedly, "I checked the acidity levels. This one has the lowest, so I guess it's the best one." And she put the bottle into the basket Riley was holding.

The domesticity of that scene only made Brittany hurt further. The painful sting was indescribable.

Silence took over them for a while and Riley decided to remedy that as she offered, looking from Santana to Brittany, "I'm making San my famous boxty for brunch. It's an old family recipe. My Mom used to make them when we were little and my brothers and I would even wrestle for the last ones," she laughed, "Well, we used to wrestle for anything and everything, but that's a story for another time," the emerald-eyed woman finished abruptly. She always rambled when slightly nervous.

"Did you find the cheese?" Santana asked the redhead, trying to end this get-together as soon as possible. That interaction was doomed for awkwardness and she was swearing the stuff off her life.

"Not really. I looked everywhere near the seafood," Riley informed casually, holding Santana's eyes.

"It's down aisle number one," Brittany piped in nonchalantly, avoiding Riley's eyes and settling on her ex's.

"Of course _you_ would know where the cheese is," Santana said with a cute knowing smile, meeting that blue gaze full-on.

Brittany matched the smile, only hers was a bit wider and Riley looked at them with puzzled eyes. After a few seconds of distraction by piercing blue eyes – which Santana was certain could be her cause of death one of these days – the brunette felt Riley's eyes on her and it shook her out of her trance.

"Brittany here has a tiny obsession with melted cheese," the brown-eyed doctor clarified, using strong will to tear her gaze from Brittany to look at the redhead. "And when I say _tiny_ I mean _huge_," she quipped with a wider smile.

"You can joke all you want but you enjoyed my cheese fondues as much as I did," Brittany shot back in a playful spirit and with an easy smile, successfully driving Santana's eyes to hers again. What could the brunette do? It was like gravity.

"I did," Santana confirmed promptly, nodding her head repetitively. And then she couldn't help but add with a teasing smirk, "Until I found out you let your _cat_ eat from the fondue pot." She did absolutely adore teasing the dancer. And it was true: that had been a terribly gross thing to find out; especially since they used to feed each other cheesy goods very often once upon a time.

Brittany gasped before she replied indignantly, "Lord Tubbington was _very_ clean!" And then she deadpanned as an afterthought, "He had even stopped smoking by that time."

Santana chuckled both at Brittany's antics and the fact that she was such an easy teasing target. Riley intently watched on their easy, intimate interaction and couldn't help but feel off about it somehow. She felt on the outside of an inside thing. And she also couldn't help but notice, after so many repetitive offenses, that the blonde was slightly… ditzy.

"He wasn't _clean_. He was fat, and ugly, and licked himself," Santana stated with amusement, not ready to let go of the bone yet.

Brittany understood that Santana was simply trying to mess with her. Successfully, she might add. So, she smiled her little adorably sassy smile and trailed on matter-of-factly, "You never liked him…" And then she pouted for effect.

"You got that one right," the brunette replied instantly, holding her head a bit high with petulance but a traitorous little smile gave her enjoyment away. "_Major_ cockblock…" She mumbled under her breath.

Brittany's smile was beyond her control at that point. So, she said evenly, running a hand through blonde locks, "_Anyhow_, I got a new fondue pot when we went to New York."

Riley had become a mere spectator at that point, watching their conversation despondently.

"And you almost set fire to that so-called apartment you lived in by letting the thing turned on 24/7," Santana said with amusement, laughing out loud wholeheartedly.

Brittany joined her laughter, leaning on the shopping cart for support as she said, "Well, a girl needs her melted cheese. And _you_, you came from the campus in the middle of the night in your _pajamas_ when I called you freaking out." She paused to control the laughter. "_Pajamas. Through the city_." The dancer reinforced her point.

Santana grabbed her stomach that had begun to ache from laughing while Brittany dried some happy tears. She and the blue-eyed woman rode the remainder of the laughter as Riley smiled sort of at a loss. It sure felt nice for the former wife and wife to reminisce about the golden days… More than it probably should, actually; and they locked eyes for the umpteenth time that morning.

Riley felt like she had to say something at once, so she spoke lightly, "Well, since we all seem to like cheese so much maybe we could all go on a double date. Me and San, and you and your wife." She shifted her expectant gaze from Brittany to Santana and back.

Santana thought that that had to be the worst idea she had ever heard. Was the ginger's memory so short that she didn't remember how awkward their _brief_ encounter at Breadstix had been?

"Sure, maybe we can set something up one of these days," Brittany replied evenly, and Santana could hear the lie clearly in her tone and, at that instant, she loved the dancer even more. If that was even possible.

"Cool, we should go," Santana said immediately, trying to escape that topic and situation altogether. "I'm starving," she added for good measure, looking from Riley to Brittany and back.

They exchanged quick, contrived goodbyes and Brittany watched them walk away from her. She wasn't going to lie: it felt incredibly hard to watch the brunette's back moving away from her just like _that_. And with another woman by her side, no less. So, she repeated her new mantra inwardly: _it's nothing serious. It's nothing serious. It's nothing serious._ You know what they say… The mind is its own place and in itself, can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven. And Brittany was certainly enjoying her well-constructed habitat of angels.

Meanwhile, Santana and Riley walked towards the cheese in silence.

Riley felt the need to say something. "Brittany, uh… she seems, I don't know," she paused and smiled, furrowing her brows in thought while looking sideways at Santana, "kinda ditzy, huh? With the cat, and the fondue pot, and all," she finished lightheartedly, relating her impressions.

Santana stayed silent for a while, just holding Riley's emerald eyes as they slowly walked. And then she said evenly, "Don't. I mean, if you want this – whatever _this_ is – to work you… _we_ shouldn't talk about her." Santana meant it. She was being very serious. It just wouldn't work.

"Sorry, I, I didn't mean anything bad about it. I just –" Riley began to say with embarrassment. She was being honest, though. The redhead didn't mean anything bitchy or malicious with the remark. It had only been that: a remark.

"I know," Santana cut her off softly. "And it's fine, don't worry. Let's just _not_…" she trailed off, offering Riley a tiny smile for reassurance, which the ginger accepted gladly.

And just like that the topic was dropped and they went about to finish their shopping.

Meanwhile, Brittany turned her shopping cart around from the sight of Santana's and Riley's backs only to bump into someone.

"I'm sorry," Brittany offered politely with a sympathetic smile before looking up at the unsuspecting victim. When she saw who it was the smile quickly fell. "Puck…" she remarked with a tinge of insolence. _This town really is a shoe box_, the dancer mused in her head.

"What a surprise…" the man trailed on with his usual smirk, which only managed to irk the blonde more.

"I'll say," the blue-eyed woman replied sarcastically. And Brittany _rarely_ did sarcasm. She eyed the wire basket slung on the barkeep's arm and shook her head slightly at the content, "Nice collection you got yourself there," she remarked dryly.

Puck looked down at the many different types of protein powder shakes and said with satisfaction laced in his tone, "Yeah, you know, gotta keep the guns…" he looked from one bicep to the other with pride, "…loaded."

Brittany rolled her eyes with disdain. How Santana had once been with that guy she still couldn't understand. "Obviously," the blonde replied with sarcasm still as she began to push her cart yet again, pushing past Puck with a curt 'bye'.

Before she could really pass by him, Puck said casually, locking eyes with the dancer, "You really did a number on her." He had witnessed some of the women's conversation minutes earlier… and he still remembered Santana's meltdown in the parking lot.

"Excuse me?" Brittany asked with disbelief, stopping pushing her shopping cart to face the man full-on. _Who exactly did Puck think he was?_ The blonde thought with exasperation.

Taking in the dancer's huff, Puck merely replied smugly, "Nevermind, Blondie… Nevermind." And he started walking away, leaving Brittany to shoot daggers at him through her stormy blue eyes.

_What a morning…_ Brittany thought as she went back to her groceries shopping after a few seconds with a lot running through her troubled mind.

* * *

><p>That same night Santana sat on her living room sofa in green scrubs. Too exhausted to even move a finger as she listened to her music and drank beer with her feet up on the coffee table. They attended to a bad car accident at the hospital that afternoon, involving two Cheerios and two jocks. The morons had skipped class with the brilliant intent of drinking and driving on the nearby road. The guy and the girl who sat on the back of the car got away with minor injuries. The couple on the front wasn't that lucky. The guy hammered his chest hard on the steering wheel and, if it weren't for Richard's mad skills, the brunette was sure he would have died on the table. At least he had regained consciousness and was stable for the moment. As for the girl… she got the worst part of the deal. She was thrown violently through the windshield – since none of the dumbasses were wearing seatbelts – and sustained a serious head injury besides massive amounts of cuts through the body and facial disfiguration. Santana was a part of the medical team who worked simultaneously on that girl and after 5 hours into the OR the brunette doctor felt happy with the results her experience as a plastic surgeon allowed her to deliver. Carson had operated on the girl's brain and it was now a game of waiting to see if the teenager would wake up.<p>

Needless to say, Santana wasn't able to meet Zoey for their daily walk with Poppy. She had asked Maggie to phone Brittany and explain everything while she was stuck in surgery. She didn't want to disappoint their daughter. The dancer had already heard about the accident from one of her teenaged students when the nurse called. In fact, everyone in town was aware of the sad event by then. Still the first thing Santana did when she got out of the surgery by evening was to call Zoey and make sure that the kid understood, and to the brunette's happiness she did. They really did have an amazing little girl.

Santana took another swig of her beer bottle and placed it on the coffee table beside an empty one as she was lost in thought. She leaned back on the sofa and was brought back to reality as she heard footsteps approaching from behind. _Gracious_ footsteps. Ones that she would never mistake…

"You do realize you have a serious problem, right?" Santana enquired evenly, without bothering to turn around to face the person. "One of these days I'll be forced to press charges," she added playfully as Brittany came into view with a small smile playing on her lips.

"Be my guest," Brittany countered defiantly with a playful intonation, breaking into a grin as their gazes met and Santana matched the smile. She eyed the beer bottles on the coffee table and added knowingly, "A beer night, huh?" The brunette only resorted to the drink when things were somewhat rough. Brittany only received a shrug in response to that.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure?" The brunette asked without moving an inch of her body, her eyes still up on the dancer. And then as if something dawned on her, she added immediately with a serious inflection, "Is Zoey alright?"

"She is fine... Sleeping at my parents. Jenna has inventory tonight," Brittany answered instantly, standing effortlessly with perfect posture. A dancer's trade. And then she added softly, taking a seat on the other end of the sofa, "You sounded…" the blonde looked for the right word but came out empty, resorting to, "…_something_ when you called her." She couldn't help it. She would always worry about Santana.

"Yeah, _tired_," Santana replied in a blasé tone, suddenly not so willing to engage Brittany in easy conversation. It was always a battle against her nature these days.

"That was a given," Brittany shot back knowingly. She didn't even have to look at Santana's face and body language to tell that. From her voice alone in the phone she gathered that much, but there was something else she had picked up on, and it wasn't like her to drop it. "But there was something else there," she added softly, true to her thoughts as she held reluctant brown eyes.

"Exhaustion?" Santana chanced a usual deflection, feeling honestly tired as an instrumental song filled the room.

Brittany ignored her attempt and prodded further, placing one leg on the sofa as she leaned sideways on its back for a better view of the brunette, "How did the surgery go? I heard the girl you worked on was in worst shape. Is she alright?" They didn't talk much in the phone earlier. The call was clearly meant for Zoey; that was why Brittany was there in Santana's living room.

One thing Santana had to hand to Brittany: the woman was persistent. Pairing that with her tiredness, it was an already lost battle.

"I'm not going to lie… Her situation wasn't pretty. I spent 5 hours on her, doing my best to meticulously make every stitch perfect. And let me tell you, I lost track of how many there were," Santana said in a low tone and Brittany winced a bit, picturing the situation.

Santana paused for a bit but the dancer could tell she wasn't finished, just processing; so, she kept watching the doctor silently.

"The face took most of my time… I had to _really_ work on –" Santana started to speak again after a while but was interrupted by Brittany grabbing her ankles from the coffee table. "What are you doing?" The brown-eyed woman asked, furrowing her eyebrows with confusion as her legs were reluctantly dragged to Brittany's lap after the dancer scooted closer to her on the sofa.

"I'll give you a foot massage," Brittany said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, after all Santana had just said she spent 5 hours on her feet. The brunette conceded internally that it might have been an obvious thing to do _in the past_, but not _now_.

"I don't think so," Santana countered firmly, trying to pull her legs back as the dancer attempted to remove her running shoes.

"Why not?" The blue-eyed woman asked with genuine surprise, looking sideways at the brunette. "It's just a massage. I've done it a million times before," she added with sheer normality, successfully grabbing the brunette's ankles again.

_Fuck it_, Santana thought. _If she doesn't care, why should I?_ She did always sweat the small stuff. Not anymore. "Knock yourself out," Santana said simply, letting a smiling Brittany take off her shoes and socks. At least Santana knew _that_ massage wouldn't have a happy ending. Wait. Perhaps that was a bad thing…

"You were saying?" Brittany prompted gladly, feeling like a soldier who just won a battle while dropping Santana's last sock on the floor. The blonde took the opportunity to take the beer bottle from the table and take a swig before initiating her work.

"Help yourself…" Santana said playfully with a little smile on her lips, ignoring the last question as she watched the blonde take some of her beer.

Brittany flashed her an impish smile and passed over the bottle to a welcoming Santana, who took a long swig of her own and nursed the drink. "So?" Brittany prompted again, starting the massage with eagerness.

"It's nothing, really. I was just saying that I had to work harder on her face. Fat grafting was needed and it complicated things more," Santana offered casually, downplaying stuff as she went.

The brunette wouldn't lie: the feeling of Brittany's warm, skillful hands on her foot was just as marvelous as ever. She should be watchful not to moan or emit any other form of embarrassing noise, though.

"But is she alright now?" Brittany asked with noticeable, genuine concern in her eyes as she rubbed the tan foot with care. Santana always loved that about her... Her capability for empathy was truly unbelievable. "Her name is Ashley, right?" Santana simply nodded confirmation as the blonde went on, "I was with Mom a few minutes ago and she said Ally knew her." At the brunette's inquisitive look she added, "She called today and Mom told her."

"Well, we did everything we could. After surgery Carson took her out of the medically induced coma. Now there's only waiting to see if she will wake up okay like we expect her to," Santana said seriously, leaning a bit more sideways against the arm of the sofa for enhanced comfort purposes. Her tone of voice tended to go like that when it came to 'professional' talk.

Brittany couldn't help but draw some parallels in her head. She didn't envy that girl's family. The blonde herself had been in that waiting situation and it had been the worst hours of her entire life. Especially considering the results.

Santana picked up on the mood change and how the dancer's eyes became sad. It didn't take much for her to connect the dots. So, she added, changing gears while putting the beer bottle on the floor next to the sofa, "Can you believe how stupid those teens are? I mean, drinking and driving? Without seatbelts?" She paused for a beat. Brittany's agreeing eyes on her. "And to think that could have easily been us back in the day. Two Cheerios with two football players… Intoxicated and driving. We did that more than once."

"I know…" Brittany agreed wholeheartedly, shaking her head in self-reproach as she stopped the massage briefly. "It gives me chills to think about it."

"Can we just make a pact right here, right now?" Santana asked evenly, her face serious. It drew Brittany's whole attention to the brunette's face. "Until she's thirty years old, Zoey _cannot_ be allowed to drive," she added and a small smile took over the dancer's pink lips. "I'm serious, Britts," Santana huffed but she had a faint smile on as well, feeling more pressure on her feet as Brittany pressed her thumb with more force against the tan foot's sole.

"I know you are," Brittany retorted lightly, using both hands on the foot then. "And you got yourself a pact. Anything to keep our baby safe," she added in earnest, even though both knew that was nothing but a fool's pact.

They exchanged wider smiles and their eyes didn't seem to want to relinquish the hold they had of each other.

Brittany stated, changing back gears, "I'm sure Ashley was lucky to have you to work on her. You've always been an amazing plastic surgeon, San."

Santana scoffed slightly, but she took the compliment. She really was good at what she did.

Brittany took the scoff to heart, so she added honestly, "I'm just being honest here. Remember those babies and kids with cleft lip who you used to work on pro-bono at the practice back in New York? They always ended up looking so much better. Beautiful. And the smiles they offered you after…" Santana smiled sweetly at the thought and at Brittany. She had forgotten about that. She really did love the pro-bono work they did, especially when kids were involved. It was so rewarding.

Brittany's hands worked with delicateness, thoroughness and Santana found herself saying with a sly smile, "Jimmy went on a fourth date."

The brunette couldn't help it. She simply had this _want_ to tell Brittany things; from the moment they've met. And it felt really odd at first because she had never wanted to tell _anybody anything _before. It didn't take long for her to realize that she had found it. _It_. Suffice to say, it scared the hell out of her. However, Brittany talked and she talked back; next thing Santana knew she would like nothing more than to be caught up in the middle of that dialogue for as long as they both shall live.

"You're kidding me…" Brittany replied incredulously with a dumbstruck expression, stopping the massage due to the shock effect.

"I kid you not," Santana shot back immediately, shaking her head for emphasis. After seeing a smile taking over the blonde's features the brunette added with amusement, "And a fifth date is already scheduled."

"Who is this mythical creature and what has she done with our friend?" The dancer quipped playfully, resuming the forgotten massage to Santana's happiness.

The brown-eyed woman replied with a wider smile, "Her name is Claire and she apparently works with Gates," seeing the confused look on Brittany's face she clarified, "Jimmy's friend... The one who handled our apartment's sale..." And Brittany nodded her understanding.

The long instrumental song ended and a familiar 'Uuuu…' coming from the dock station caught Santana's attention. She had even forgotten about the music playing and how her playlist was still oozing Brittany-related feelings. _But, you know what? Fuck it!_ The brunette colourfully thought once again. She was tired of trying to shield everyone from the awkwardness. If she felt it, everyone else might as well. _Just let the discomfort wash over us_, she mused. Besides, that song wasn't the worst that could have popped up in that shuffle mode.

"Our little boy is growing up," Brittany joked with a broad grin. The Pierce family type.

Santana chuckled and replied evenly, "He certainly is. He wants me to meet her, but considering the Ki –"

Brittany cut Santana off to complete her sentence, "The _Kirsten Law_, you will wait to see if they'll make past the sixth date to actually meet her." And they locked eyes and exchanged a knowing smile that had more than become their thing these last few months.

The_ Kirsten Law_ was a funny thing. Jimmy was, and always has been, a notorious bachelor. He rarely had first dates. They were most one night stands and random hook-ups. So, one day he met Kirsten and really started to like the girl. They made it to a first date and a second one before he introduced her to Santana and Brittany, who loved the woman from the get-go. They even made the third date a double date, and the girls even began meeting Kirsten alone without Jimmy. The woman was deemed awesome by all. Jimmy, however, lost interest quickly and they didn't even make it to the fourth date, which upset the blonde and the brunette to no end since Kirsten was so hurt that she couldn't bear to remain friends with Jimmy's friends. And that was how _Kirsten Law_ was born. Santana and Brittany – reeling from the disappointment – decided to create said law that stated that they would only meet someone Jimmy was dating _if_ the "relationship" passed the sixth date mark. They really had to protect themselves from James's fickle, _fickle_ heart. And, up to that day, they never met anyone Jimmy ever saw.

"Exactly," Santana stated with the smile still in place as the first couple of verses began to resonate.

_You wait on letters,  
><em>_Fishing for any sign of life…_

"I'm thinking about heading over there for a weekend if everything turns out all right," Santana added, her eyes full on Brittany when she amended softly, "I'd like to take Zoey with me as well. You wouldn't die from separation anxiety, would you?" She joked with a smirk.

None were being very mindful to the song and lyrics by then as Brittany stopped the foot massage and replied with a mock wry smile, "I think I could manage to stay alive for a couple of days."

_Drinks after dinner,  
><em>_Your friends will get you to unwind…_

The brown-eyed woman's tone turned serious when she said, "It's just – I want to show her New York... Central Park, you know, pulling no stops at the Zoo; the Milstein Hall of Ocean Life; Coney Island; that old school ice cream parlor we discovered when that douchey cab driver dropped us before our final destination," Brittany smiled adorably, "maybe, I don't know, even take her to a musical. You always used to say you couldn't wait to…"

_Let's skip the charades,  
><em>_Can we just speak plain?_

"Take him or her to see _The Nutcracker_," Brittany completed with a wistful tone, feeling overly emotional all of the sudden at the memory. Because it was true. She had forgotten that, but during the first few months of her pregnancy she kept saying that she couldn't wait to take the boy or girl to see some shows when he or she got around the right age. She especially wanted to take the kid to see The Nutcracker because the ballet was one of the first times she realized she really wanted to be a dancer. Rob and Annie had taken her during a short trip to New York when she was little, around Zoey's age. And she had become completely baffled and amazed. The way the dancers moved their bodies, the magic that those moves entailed… everything captivated her.

"Yeah…" Santana trailed on weakly, offering the woman sat across from her a sweet smile.

_I'm two left feet when,  
><em>_I'm home we tap danced on broken glass…_

Brittany's mind took flight as it conjured up and displayed hypothetical images of that trip and… her heart ached to join them. Perhaps she should invite herself to tag along. What about Jenna, though? _So many complications and variants…_ As they held each other's stare comfortably in silence and before the dancer even had the chance to act on the thought or not, Santana's cell phone vibrated in her scrubs' pocket.

_Somehow you manage,  
><em>_To keep your sense of humour in tact…_

She took it out and checked it, tearing her gaze from blue orbs. It was a text from Riley, which she quickly replied and pocketed the cell again.

"Was that Riley?" Brittany enquired gently, doing her best to keep her voice casual and even while resuming the massage.

_Let's skip the charades,  
><em>_You're seeing right through me anyway…_

"Yes," Santana replied without skipping a beat, returning her gaze to the blonde. Perhaps the sound waves coming to her ears were sending enticing subliminal messages to her brain and finally slipping through her mouth. But, really, there was no need to lie; not that she could anyhow. Meanwhile, the brunette could see as clear as day the mood shifting in that living room.

_Can we just speak plain?  
><em>_We're playing for the same team…_

Perhaps Santana wasn't the only one being affected by the subliminal messages because Brittany asked in a stiff manner just as quickly, "Are you two girlfriends now?" It had been just like always: she _wanted_ but _didn't_ want to know. And _still_ she had asked it. To be honest, the dancer had some misplaced anger towards her ex at that very instant. The trickeries of jealousy…

_But I'm the one that's acting like,  
><em>_Acting like,  
><em>_Acting like,  
><em>_I'm so strong…_

"We've never actually discussed it. We're exclusive, though… So, I guess we are," Santana replied evenly and honestly with some trademark petulance, holding her head a bit higher as she kept holding Brittany's stare. The mood _definitely_ changed because _Brittany_, who has a _wife_ back home, is giving _me_ some attitude and pressing about my _potential girlfriend_; Santana mused inwardly. "Why do you care?" The brown-eyed woman asked back with insolence.

_You're the one that's acting like,  
><em>_Acting like,  
><em>_Acting like,  
><em>_Nothing's wrong…_

"It's _you_… I'll always care," Brittany replied firmly and simply, but still in an evasive manner; the foot massage again long forgotten as they just stared intently at each other, much like two women caught in an old school gun duel.

_You dodged the bullet,  
><em>_You do your best when you're busiest,  
><em>_You're disconnected,  
><em>_You can't find your name in the script…_

_Evaded_, Santana thought bitterly with her eyes on her lap. There she was offering Brittany another chance to come clean and the dancer refused it yet again. Santana wasn't that surprised, though. Even though a part, a _tiny_ part of her still helplessly held on to the idea that Brittany would come to her senses and end this whole… _fuckery_; the biggest part of Santana knew for a fact that people aren't who they're not, despite of our better wishes – or theirs, for that matter.

So, the brown-eyed woman raised her eyes back to blue orbs and took a deep breath. After a moment of silence, Santana asked morosely and slightly cryptically, "Is that all?" There was a lace of irony there as well if you heard close enough.

_It was you who were wildest,  
><em>_It was you who floated above us all…_

Brittany genuinely didn't understand the question. "What do you mean?" She asked with furrowed brows, running a hand through her abundant soft hair.

_I held on with wires,  
><em>_Will you come back down if I let you go?*_

Santana merely flashed her ex a cold, and yet sympathetic, smile while subtly shaking her head from side to side. "I mean that it's time for me to take a bath… and for you to go home," she offered softly, devoid of any harshness as she retracted her bare feet from Brittany's lap. And then she reached for the small dock station's remote control on top of the coffee table. It still rang as remarkably amazing to her how Brittany could get her from happy, to sad, to sort of mad in a span of minutes.

_Let's skip the char –_

Santana rose to her feet, killing the song mid-sentence with a slightly over-aggressive press of a button. _It had done more than enough for today_, she thought. Brittany rose to her feet as well, not exactly sure of how they went from one comfortable point in that night to another awkward and weird one so quickly.

"Are you okay?" Brittany asked with some confusion. She got sort of lost moving from point A to point B and then to point C of that conversation.

"Yeah, I just need a bath," Santana replied without skipping a beat. It wasn't a lie. It wasn't the whole truth either, but… "Can you walk out for yourself?" She asked formally, not in any way as a form of dig while running a hand through her ponytail.

Brittany nodded kind of dejectedly as they both left the living room side by side. The dancer deviating towards the front door with a weird smile on her face, and Santana striding over to the marble staircase, matching that weird smile who both had no idea what it stood for.

Things just kept getting odder and odder…

* * *

><p>Brittany, Jenna, Zoey, Lisa and Jeremy stood in the middle of the street gushing over Jeremy's two-month-old baby brother, Jordan. Lisa was looking extremely well for someone who had delivered that shortly. There were quite a few people moving around them as the streets were closed for the '<em>Run For The Kids'<em> project of Zoey's and Jeremy's school. They needed the money for a new playground and decided to raise it by creating a mini marathon for parents and sympathizers. Mostly parents, obviously. They were sort of obligated to. At least the weather was nicer. The snow had melted away and you could almost smell spring in the air.

"He's so big already, Lisa," Brittany said with a grin on her face, looking down at the chubby black baby in the carrier car seat that sat on the floor for Zoey and Jeremy's easy access.

"And looking very healthy as well," Jenna added, backing up her wife's remark with a similar grin.

"I know, right? No wonder, though… The little guy is sucking me dry," Lisa replied with a laugh and the married couple laughed along as the kids still fussed with Jordan, hovering over him.

"Look, Mommy, his hand is _sooo_ little," Zoey stated with a smile of enchantment, looking up at Brittany with big blue eyes while holding the infant's tiny hand. Her eyes looked even bluer because of the colourful butterfly painting on her face.

The 'event' had attracted some people ready to cash in on the children's intense want for things: a guy selling popcorn and cotton candy, another guy selling balloons, and a lady who did animal-related facial paintings, among others. Jeremy was proudly sporting a lion painting on his little face.

Brittany nodded repeatedly her agreement and said softly, "Be gentle, baby…"

All of the sudden, Zoey opened up the biggest of smiles and dashed past her Mommy and Jenna in her pink Chucks, dodging several people as she went.

"Zoey!" Brittany scolded as she watched the kid's mad dash. "Where are you going? You'll get lost," the blonde added while turning around to locate the child. And then she saw who Zoey was running towards: Santana. It brought a big smile to her own face.

A little afar, Santana picked up their daughter as the little girl made her running way to her.

"Mama!" Zoey greeted a bit too loudly with excitement, eye to eye with the brown-eyed woman and smile still in place.

"Hey, baby," Santana greeted back, wearing the same big smile as Zoey. It was impossible not to at the face of such adorableness that was their kid. As Zoey wrapped her little hands around Santana's neck, the brunette took a good gander at the girl's face and added with amusement, "What's that pretty thing on your face, bug?" Like she didn't know the answer…

"It's painting," Zoey replied with sheer confidence. "A butterfly," she clarified with authority, making Santana smirk at their daughter's engaging personality at such a small age. "That lady over there painted," the kid finished, pointing towards the woman's spot.

"Well, it's very pretty," Santana confirmed evenly, holding the kid's eyes while fortifying her hold under Zoey's thighs. She was getting bigger by the day, so it seemed to the doctor.

And then Zoey affectionately put one hand over each of Santana's cheeks and gave her Mama that look of utter, unconditional adoration that always made the woman's heart almost burst with emotion. The kid could be so sweet sometimes – with zero warning, no less – that broke Santana's heart. In the best of way possible, of course… Reminded her of Zoey's _other mother_, and that thought brought Santana back to reality as she flashed her little girl one of her rare tender smiles, and began to walk towards Brittany and the others with Zoey in her arms.

Reaching them, Santana put a heavy Zoey down and said a polite greeting directed sort of to everyone. And then she looked down at Jeremy and added playfully, "And how is it going, Jeremy, my man? You make one nice looking lion, you know that?" And she positioned her closed fist near the boy, who bumped his own little fist against it with a smile.

Zoey watched on their interaction near Santana's leg.

"I'm the king of the forest," Jeremy announced proudly, emitting a 'roar' sound that made all the women laugh. Aside from Zoey, who simply scoffed at his showing off.

"Hey, San! We were just gushing over little Jordan there," Brittany said casually, shifting her gaze from Santana to the baby on the carrier and back. "Lisa had a baby boy," she clarified.

"Oh, I know," Santana replied, looking down at the baby with a small smile. "So cute…" she mumbled more to herself than anything with a wider smile.

"We crossed paths at the hospital when I went to deliver," Lisa added matter-of-factly, looking at Santana and then to Brittany and Jenna. "Send my love to Dr. Liao, by the way. That woman was a godsend," Lisa continued congenially while Jeremy and Zoey entertained themselves by the women's feet.

"Will do," Santana offhandedly insured the black-skinned woman. "So, what's going on here, anyways? I was out for my morning run and came face-to-face with this _circus_ here," the brunette quipped in her black track shorts and white fitted pullover hoodie, stuffing her hands on its kangaroo-styled pocket.

"It isn't a circus, Mama," Zoey said with a gullible expression on her face, buying Santana's quip as she looked up at the brown-eyed woman.

"It's a '_meratone_'," Jeremy added with excitement, looking at his friend's mother as well. And the women laughed at the kids' antics.

"What was I thinking?" Santana joked lightheartedly, shaking her head for emphasis while absentmindedly running a hand through her daughter's French braid.

"It's just a small marathon the children's school put together so they could come up with money for a new playground," Jenna piped in matter-of-factly, holding Santana's stare as she stood beside Brittany.

"Oh, really?" Santana asked rhetorically, shifting her gaze from green eyes to clear blue ones as she drew her hands out of the pullover's pocket. "I had no idea about this _event_," the brunette added faux-casually, brown eyes still fixed on blue ones. She could never pass up on an opportunity to see Brittany squirm these days.

"Well, Jenna had already volunteered to run, so…" Brittany trailed off awkwardly, trying to justify her omission as Lisa squatted down to put the dropped pacifier in Jordan's mouth again.

Santana let go of the hold on Brittany's baby-blues. She shouldn't mess with the dancer any further. "So, I guess you're off the run this year, huh, Lisa?" Santana asked the woman playfully, looking down at her and the kids, who had found their interest in Jordan again after the pacifier incident.

Lisa laughed and replied while rising to her feet again, "Oh, _definitely_. Jeremy's Dad will be doing the running. In fact, we should go looking for him, baby." She looked down at the little boy. "Lord knows he loses himself when he gets to talk about football with one of his _pals_," Lisa joked, shifting her gaze to the women. "See you around, ladies," the woman finished with a smile, grabbing the baby carrier's handle with one hand and Jeremy's with the other after he and Zoey exchanged their goodbyes.

"So, what are we talking about here? Distance-wise, that is," Santana enquired nonchalantly with an up-to-no-good glint in her dark chocolate eyes.

"3K for women and 5K for men," Jenna replied immediately, wearing large grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt with a number tag on it. It read '12'.

"Is that it?" Santana asked with surprise, placing one hand on her hip. "I think I'll run, too," she added with bravado, redirecting her gaze to Brittany in defiance. "You know, anything for the kids," the brunette finished with fake sincerity, looking down at a smiling Zoey for dramatic effect.

"You don't need to run, S," Brittany protested lightly, trying to bypass that potential landmine. "I mean, we're already doing our part," the dancer amended lamely.

"No, I insist," the brown-eyed woman stated, not dropping the bone. How could she pass up the perfect opportunity to put Brittany's _new wife_ in her due place?

Brittany was about to gently protest further, but was interrupted by her wife. "It's okay, Brittany. There's room for everybody. Like Santana said, _anything for the kids_," Jenna said with the same fake sincerity Santana had employed moments ago. How could she pass up the perfect opportunity to teach Brittany's _old wife_ a lesson?

Brittany looked conflicted while Santana replied in her scheming tone, "Yes, Brittany… Listen to Lena there." She couldn't help baiting the short blonde, who only shot daggers her way, which only encouraged the grinning doctor more. "Besides, I promise to not fight dirty…" Short pause. "Much." Santana smirked; looking down to wink at Zoey, who hung on her Mama's every word.

"But you're a runner, Santana. You've been running every morning for as long as I can remember," Brittany tried to reason with both women.

"Nonsense," Santana tried to downplay it with a wave of hand. "I spent years in a hospital bed. And one could say I'm already spent for today since I did my morning circuit already," she added with false modesty and a smug grin that Brittany could see right through.

The blue-eyed dancer scoffed and replied knowingly while putting two hands on her hip, "Please, Santana… You can't fool _me_. I was there when you ran the New York City half marathon." Jenna was getting redder in the face as each sentence was spoken by her wife and ex.

"Light-years ago, Britts," Santana countered dismissively, looking sideways at Jenna and gladly realizing that her rile-up plan was working like a charm. _These people are just too easy_; the brunette thought with unabashed amusement.

"But –" Brittany started but was interrupted by the green-eyed woman.

"What? You think I can't win, Brittany?" Jenna asked with honest curiosity, and a tinge of resentment.

"No, I'm not saying that…" The dancer tried to backtrack with a weak tone of voice, looking directly into her wife's eyes while a jolly Santana brought Zoey against her leg for a side hug.

"Because I run, too," Jenna tried to make her case and received a questioning look from Brittany. "Well, I used to when I was in high school. But I do work out these days, whenever I can."

"Of course you do, Jenna," Brittany stated in an appeasing manner, watching from the corner of her eye Santana in a hushed conversation with their kid. _Santana had to create this impossible situation_; the tall blonde scolded inwardly. She was only trying to prevent her wife from possibly feeling some sort of ridicule. Not that she, Brittany, considered losing a '_ridicule_', but her wife would definitely see it that way.

Standing straight after she had been bending down to talk to Zoey, Santana announced in the happiest of tones, "Great, since we're all in agreement that I should run. Including Zoey here," she looked down adoringly at the girl, "Am I right, Z? Should I run?" Santana asked with a grin, already positive of the answer.

"Yes!" Zoey all but shouted, clapping her hands enthusiastically. A family trade… from her Mommy's side, obviously.

Brittany only shot Santana a less than amused look paired with a subtle head shake, which earned the dancer the biggest of grins from Santana, who said merrily, "_Splendid_! I'll just go over that lovely tent there to sign up. How much does this cost anyway?"

"Fifty bucks," Jenna said with a less than friendly face.

"Wow, is your school setting its eyes on a playground made of gold, kiddo?" Santana asked sarcastically, looking down to hold Zoey's blue eyes while removing her iPod armband to retrieve some cash she carried there.

"I think it's just a regular playground, Mama," Zoey answered seriously, which earned her a laugh from her mothers. Jenna was too busy sulking to pay attention. After a short pondering session, the little girl added with a smile, "But a playground made of gold would be totally cool."

"It would," Brittany replied honestly, unable to not picture a playground made of gold as well.

Santana counted the money she kept tucked behind the iPod and said, looking at Brittany, "I only have thirty-five here, Britt. Do you have fifteen to spot me?" Brittany looked at Santana with an involuntary smile playing on her pink lips. Her ex _did_ have some nerve. Reading the dancer's gaze, Santana added, making sure she wouldn't let a simple lack of cash deter her, "If you don't have it I'll ask Rosa to bring me my wallet."

Brittany stuffed her hand in her jeans pocket and picked a twenty-dollar bill between others before handing it over to Santana with pursed lips. "Here," the tall blonde offered curtly.

"Thank you!" Santana replied, taking the bill. Feeling Jenna's eyes on her, she added evenly without tearing her gaze from her ex, "I'll pay you back." And with that she started sauntering towards the sign-up tent, dodging people as she went.

An uncomfortable silence settled between Jenna and Brittany. The shorter blonde kept looking at her wife with a look that clearly translated into '_I can't believe you have no faith in me_' while Brittany could only wear one that read '_I'm sorry_'. Zoey was oblivious to the tension as she did her best at people watching. She had been trying to spot Gracie since they arrived there.

Breaking the tension-filled silence, Jenna announced solemnly, "I see some of my co-workers. I should go and say 'hi'." She really needed some time to cool-off.

"Okay," Brittany replied softly and then she added, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm great," Jenna replied evenly, feeling some of the negativity go away at her wife's softness. But not _all _of it. And with that she turned around and went to her colleagues. Brittany could tell that wasn't exactly the whole truth, but there was nothing she could really do. The knowledge that her heart was in the right place all along gave her some comfort, though.

Meanwhile, Zoey had been watching Jeremy with his family. They had resurfaced seconds ago and were a bit afar from where she stood with Brittany. The sight brought some ideas that had been going through her mind lately back to surface, especially after she got to meet Jordan.

"Mommy?" Zoey called out softly, looking up to meet her mother's loving gaze.

"Yeah, baby?" Brittany replied instantly, but not with her whole attention in place since her mind was overly busy with her own troubling thoughts.

"Why can't we live together?" The kid asked with curiosity, tearing her eyes from her mother's to sneak a quick glance Jeremy's way.

"What?" The blonde asked back with confusion, furrowing her brows as her full attention fell on the little girl.

"Why can't we live together?" Zoey repeated the question evenly.

"I don't understand, sweetie. We _do_ live together," Brittany answered plainly, resting one hand on each of the little girl's shoulders.

"No," the brunette girl replied with patience, shaking her little head from side to side while still holding the dancer's stare. "I mean, you and me _and Mama_."

Brittany was taken aback as her eyebrows rose in unison and she uttered a baffled, "Oh…" The tall blonde took a sharp intake of breath to formulate her answer, and then she added softly, "Well, we live with Aunt Jenna, Z. Don't you like Aunt Jenna?" Brittany was honestly curious about that, even though she knew her answer was sort of a non-answer. But it was the best she could come up with on the spot.

"Yes, I do," Zoey replied in an introspective tone, which wasn't really her at all. "_But_…" Brittany knew that one was coming, "…I want _us_ to live together. Like Jeremy and his parents," her eyes wandered there for a second, "And Gracie and her Mommy and Daddy," Zoey finished softly, trying to explain the best way she could despite not having the thorough hold she usually had on her thoughts.

Brittany squatted down in front of her daughter, maintaining her hands on the kid's shoulders. She sighed and looked into Zoey's big blue eyes with empathy. How could she explain this? The dancer tried tentatively in the sweetest of tones, "You know that Aunt Jenna and I are married, don't you?" Zoey nodded in silence. She did know that. "And that your Mama and I are –" Brittany began to amend; shifting her hands to cup the kid's cheeks, but she was interrupted by Zoey.

"You are '_divoiced_'," the little girl completed knowingly, which surprised Brittany.

"Where did you hear that, sweetie?" Brittany asked evenly.

"Russ," Zoey offered simply and Brittany thought she should have known. The boy was trouble. "I thought he was lying, but Mama said it was true," the kid added innocently.

"She did?" The blue-eyed woman questioned, even more interested in this little piece of information. Zoey nodded her confirmation promptly. "What else did she tell you?" Brittany prodded, guiltily stealing a glance at her ex, who still stood under the sign-up tent far ahead. _What? She had to know_. The last thing they needed was to send their daughter mixed messages, or so she told herself.

"She said that she still loves you, and you still love her," Zoey said with conviction, a smile taking over her lips. She still loved the sound of that. Brittany couldn't help but smile as well. "You said that it was true, remember?" The little girl continued with authority and Brittany nodded. She had confirmed it that one night, and it was the absolute truth still. After the nod Zoey got all she needed, at least her little mind thought so. So, she concluded with a question that seemed obvious to her, "Then _why_ can't we live together? Like a family?"

Their daughter was becoming too smart for her liking. The kid _did_ make sense… _but_ she didn't have all the facts. "Z, it's not that simple…" Brittany trailed on with a weak tone of voice, letting her hands fall to her sides. This subject pained her, especially coming from Zoey's mouth. She had no idea their girl was harboring those thoughts and feelings.

"But I want this," Zoey said with resolution, putting her little foot down while holding her mother's stare. She could be mighty stubborn when she wanted to. _Like Mama, like daughter_; Brittany thought with a hint of amusement despite everything.

While Brittany decided how to handle the situation the best way possible Zoey took her silence as a sign of victory.

"And I want a baby sister, too. Like Jeremy had a baby brother," the blue-eyed girl stated evenly, bringing Brittany out of her stupor.

"Zoey, this isn't like Christmas. You can't just –" Brittany began to counter, her voice a bit higher to command some attention.

Zoey liked the idea so much that she decided to interrupt her Mommy as she said with excitement, "Yes, I should ask Santa to bring me a baby sister!"

Brittany shook her head repeatedly. What was she doing? That whole conversation was spiraling out of control. So, she decided it was better to do some damage control instead of some reality check. "Santa can't bring _everything_ you want, sweetie. Remember when you asked for a pony?"

Zoey seemed to have taken that into consideration as her high came to a slight halt. Her Mommy had a point there. Brittany thanked the heavens above for that strike of luck, but before she could celebrate the dancer saw a glint in the kid's blue eyes. It frightened her.

"I'll ask _Jesus_, then. Jesus can give you anything if it's really, really, _really_ important," Zoey said with sheer conviction. Brittany's eyes seemed questioning to the kid as they shifted from her own eyes to the distance, where the blonde spotted Santana nearing with apprehension, and back. So Zoey added as proof, "He even made Mama –" she didn't even finish her phrase because her gaze caught sight of Gracie arriving with her parents and, like a true kid, the 'shiny' distraction took hold of all her thoughts. No matter how important they were. And just like that she ditched Brittany and dashed to her best friend's way while shouting, "Gracie!"

"Be careful," Brittany warned Zoey softly, watching the kid reach her bestie with some relief for not being under Zoey's intense scrutiny anymore as Santana joined her.

"Got it," Santana stated proudly, holding her number tag in the air for her ex to see. "Now I just have to put it…" she added, placing the number '44' tag on the front of her white pullover hoodie, "…here," she concluded with a smirk, looking up at Brittany.

Brittany held brown eyes with a reproachful look on her blue ones. "I hope you're happy with yourself," the blonde said evenly, trying to sound stern but failing miserably at it as a faint smile appeared on her lips. She never could stay mad at Santana for long. Not only because the brunette was so hot anymore like in high school – which she still was, though – but because Santana was so _Santana_. And the brunette fully knew that, and she often took advantage of that fact.

"Extremely, actually," Santana shot back teasingly, pulling her sleeves up. "Now I only have to grab a bottle of water from that table," she pointed. "Apparently it's _mandatory_, and then I'm ready to roll. Well, run." She smiled wide, enjoying the best of moods. "I'm avoiding going there, though. That kid who fancies himself a troubadour has been singing and playing guitar non-stop and he sounds _terrible_. I had the displeasure of listening to him closely when I was signing up."

Brittany looked over at the teenager boy even though she already knew who Santana was talking about. "Don't say that, San," the dancer said softly, returning her eyes to the doctor. "His name is Kevin and he takes some classes with me. He is a nice kid," she added honestly, shoving her hands in her jacket's pockets.

"Well, nice or not he should practice some more before torturing, I mean, _playing_ in public," Santana quipped promptly, turning her head to the kid. "See, no one is dropping one cent into that guitar case of his."

"I put ten dollars there," Brittany countered with a trademark pout.

Santana shook her head and replied casually, "I should get my water. No reason to delay the inevitable. Brace yourselves, ears of mine." And she started walking towards the water table, which was near the teenager troubadour.

A mother of one of her little students came by to chat briefly with Brittany. They engaged in small talk and after a while Brittany's eyes instinctively made their way to Santana: the woman who was her persevering reminder that nothing stays the same… but that nothing ever really changes either. To her surprise the brunette was subtly throwing a bill into Kevin's case. The sight brought a broad smile to her face. The blue-eyed woman excused herself politely and started walking towards Santana, who was making her way back with the water bottle in hand.

They met halfway and Brittany still wore her megawatt smile. Santana looked at her puzzled and asked evenly, "What?"

"I saw you giving Kevin some money," Brittany gushed adoringly, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

"You weren't supposed to see that," Santana countered matter-of-factly but still held Brittany's gaze. She thought she had been stealthy about it.

"Well, I saw it. And it was _very_ sweet of you, S," Brittany stated with such honesty and pride that it shook Santana a bit, so much so that she had to momentarily drop her eyes from the dancer's stare.

After a beat to recover, Santana looked at Brittany in the eye again and said teasingly in a joking manner, "You always did bring out the worst in me." And she flashed the dancer a charming smile that made Brittany slightly weak in her knees. The fact that it came paired with a dimple apparition didn't help matters at all.

They laughed out loud, and one could swear that they were sporting a blush. "Likewise," Brittany replied in the same fashion while their laughter subsided.

"Where's Zoey, by the way?" Santana asked, trying to change the subject since the air was becoming loaded while tightening her high ponytail.

"With Gracie and her parents," Brittany replied absentmindedly, more interested in the glimpse of Santana's scar she caught when the brown-eyed woman adjusted her hair. "Your scar looks good," she added casually, catching Santana's arm by the wrist and inspecting the scarred tissue on the inside of her forearm. "I can barely see it."

"I guess…" Santana trailed on with little enthusiasm, looking down at it as well.

"Dr. Edwards did a nice job, after all."

"You could say that."

"Why did you insist on running?" Brittany asked softly, looking up from the scar but still not dropping Santana's arm. "Don't you think that will be awkward?"

"A piece of advice: you should show a little more faith in your wife. Those things can cause a lot of hurt feelings in a relationship, you know? And who knows, really? Maybe she'll beat me," Santana joked lightheartedly and received a pointed look from Brittany, who finally let her wrist go.

The brunette could see Jenna from the corner of her eye, talking to a girl and two guys. After a brief pause, she tried to joke again, "Besides, you should be more worried about Gemma's outfit instead of her ego. I mean, who on their right mind leave the house looking like _that_? The best way to amend your lack of support would be to nominate her for '_What Not To Wear'_, I think. Don't you agree? I could even help you with the computer."

Brittany shook her head at Santana's antics, but she wouldn't lie: the fact that she was back to calling Jenna wrong names sounded well in her ears. _Yes_, she still was _that_ messed-up. "Very funny," the blonde managed to muster, trying hard not to smile and encourage Santana. And then she felt like getting some retribution when she added slyly, "At least Jenna _wears_ clothes… unlike Riley," she gauged Santana's facial reaction and when the brunette maintained a straight face the blonde clarified with some trepidation, "who, you know, take them _off_."

Santana shook her head, a traitor smile taking her lips hostage as she replied, "Yeah, B, I got that the first time around. No need for explanations."

All of the sudden, an ambulance arrived at the event. Apparently you must have at least one present in these sorts of physically demanding events. In case anyone falls ill or something to that effect. The noise of the ambulance sirens was like Pavlov's bell to Brittany and the woman reflexively flinched, displaying this painful wince expression on her face that managed to throw Santana off.

"What's wrong, Britt?" Santana asked softly, concern all over her tone and face.

Brittany shook her head from side to side several times, trying to escape that awful feeling in the pit of her stomach. "Nothing, I just –" The blue-eyed woman began weakly, not looking directly into the brunette's eyes. "I have this weird thing with ambulance sirens…" she reformulated what she was saying, eyes downcast and a hand on her hip for support more than anything.

"Since when?" Santana asked skeptically, a faint smile playing on her lips since she never heard of this '_weird thing_' before, and she knew _everything_ about the dancer.

"Since…" Brittany began, her voice faltering a bit. And then she looked up at Santana, cleared her dry throat and added weakly and yet one hundred percent honestly, "Since I rode one with you."

Santana's small smile dropped as instantly as Brittany's words left her mouth. There was this sadness in those blue orbs that the brunette felt a brief case of shortage of air. So, she took a slow, deep breath and uttered a faint, "Oh…"

They stared silently at each other for a few more seconds before Santana felt this need she could not stop. She took one long step forward and hugged Brittany. A real hug. One like they used to exchange once upon a time. The dancer felt surprised – Santana had specifically told her that she had to completely cut down her touchy-feeling ways – but, God, how she enjoyed it!

With her arms tightly wrapped around Brittany's neck, Santana whispered tenderly in the dancer's ear, "I'm sorry." It was simple, it was short, it was hushed but it held a _massive_ weight.

"It's alright," Brittany whispered back, feeling the need to tranquilize the other woman as her hands remained securely around Santana's waist.

Santana pulled back, too soon for both of their liking. As she did so she caught a glimpse of Jenna watching them before her whole attention fell back on Brittany's grateful eyes. Santana took a little time to thoroughly assess them, and when she was convinced that that heavy sadness was gone she started breathing normally again.

The tension was back again. This time it was slightly different, though. It was the tension created by everything there was to say… but that wouldn't be said.

Brittany decided to break it as she announced with manufactured cheeriness, "I should go grab Zoey. Wouldn't want to impose on Tracy too much..." And she flashed Santana a wide smile before turning around and leaving. "Be right back," she called out from a few steps afar.

"Take your time…" Santana called out back, shoving her hands in the pullover's kangaroo pocket as Brittany made a little flirtatious turn-around but kept walking, only backwards. And so, Santana added cryptically with a little smirk on her lips, "…Miss Sunflower Blue." Brittany narrowed her beautiful eyes a bit at the brunette, unsure of what that meant exactly. But she brushed it off and turned around again after a few seconds, starting to walk away properly.

_Thank God she had made an escape_; Santana thought with relief. There was only so much tension a person could take.

Santana began doing some stretching to prepare. Nothing like a good warm-up to pave the road for victory because, let's be honest, she would _die_ before losing that run... to Gemma, at least. And, thinking of the Devil, the short blonde herself began to make her way towards the brown-eyed woman. _A determined look plastered on her little fugly face_, Santana remarked inwardly. _This should be good…_

"Hi," Jenna greeted curtly, eyeing Santana up and down as the woman stretched.

_Did she just… size me up?_ Santana pondered with some amusement and some indignation. So, she merely gave a mute head nod as acknowledgement.

"So, what was that all about?" The green-eyed woman enquired bluntly, placing one hand on her hip.

"What?" Santana asked innocently with furrowed brows, playing dumb for pure self-indulgent reasons as she kept on stretching her legs. _Who could blame me, really?_ The brunette thought. _Who this woman thinks she is to get all up in my grill? Santana Lopez's grill?_

"You and _my wife_ before," Jenna clarified immediately and with some bite as she stressed those words. She would give no consequence for mind games, but she knew how to play as well.

Santana took the hit but quickly rose back up. "Oh, _that_? Wasn't it obvious?" Santana baited lightheartedly, the whole thing was rather amusing if it weren't slightly aggravating. "Just one friend talking to another," she offered plainly. "Best of friends, really."

Jenna was getting ticked off as well. Something about Santana's smugness never did sit well with her. More than ever she wanted to beat her in that stupid run. She would rather _die_ than lose… to Santana, at least.

"Is that so? Then what about that hug?" Jenna asked directly, holding Santana's defiant stare. The blonde hated when she got jealous like that… and slightly pathetic as well, if she was to be honest, but sometimes you really couldn't stop yourself.

"One friend comforting the other," Santana shot back promptly with a purposely employed condescending tone. Jenna irked her. There was no way to deny it, no way around it.

Jenna shot her a suspicious look and it was too good of an opportunity to pass out.

So, Santana added cunningly with extra venom, it _was_ her thing after all, "I can see why you would be suspicious, though… _Worried_ even. I mean, the whole _comforting friend_ bid worked so well for you in the past, huh?" And she flashed Jenna her best bitch smile.

Jenna felt the dig, and she felt it hard, but before she could even think of something astute to say Zoey came running and threw herself into Santana's arms. Brittany joined the women seconds later.

Picking up on the funky atmosphere, the dancer asked with oblivious suspicion, "Something wrong? What's up?" Her eyes going from Santana to Jenna, who looked weirdly flushed.

Holding Zoey against her hip and smiling at the child, Santana answered without taking her eyes from the kid's, "Nothing, we were just having a pleasant little chat." She moved her eyes to Jenna and stared at her coldly before asking with poise, "Isn't that right?"

Jenna held her stare with just as much coldness and replied evenly, "Absolutely."

Brittany looked from her wife to her ex and she wasn't buying a word, but she thought best not to stir the pot. God only knows what it was cooking inside…

"Where's my Poppy doggy?" Zoey asked randomly, fussing with Santana's hoodie's strings. The doctor was about to kiss her daughter's cheek but refrained, mindful of her butterfly facial painting that took over her entire face.

"At home with Rosa," Santana replied sweetly, only Zoey to cool her off.

"Gracie wanted to see her."

"Maybe next time."

Two paramedics passed by them, greeting Santana casually in passing, "Dr. Lopez…"

"Newman. Kowalski," Santana acknowledged them with a head nod. She was familiar with the guys from her ER rotations.

"You know them?" Brittany asked, making conversation.

The brown-eyed doctor nodded. "From the hospital," Santana replied offhandedly, pecking Zoey's cheek anyways. How could she resist?

"You're number forty-four?" Zoey asked with interest, looking down at her mother's number tag. Santana just nodded her confirmation.

Suddenly they heard a woman calling out the contenders for the male and female category.

"Showtime," Jenna announced lightly while Santana put Zoey down.

"Good luck, you two," Brittany said sweetly, even though she had a bad feeling about this. She hated confrontations. At least she was consistent.

"May the best woman win," Santana teased playfully with a smile as she and Jenna started walking towards the designated area.

"We'll wait here at the finishing line," the dancer informed, grabbing hold of Zoey's hand. The starting line was also the finishing line.

"Win!" Zoey exclaimed with enthusiasm, watching the two women walk away. Upon hearing that, Santana turned around to flash her daughter one last smile.

The marathon started and ended. Jenna had sprinted with all she got as soon as the horn told them it was time to run. After some minutes of strong running it pained the green-eyed blonde to see Santana effortlessly jogging her way past her and disappearing ahead, leaving no trace behind. When Jenna crossed the finishing line the bitter truth hit her: she had, in fact, _lost _to Santana.

The rest of the morning went on as a bit of a blur to Jenna. Her ego had been severely hurt, she wouldn't lie. Brittany was offering some sweet and reassuring words to her while Santana – accompanied by Zoey – dealt with some photographs and other stuff for the school's newsletter, apparently.

Santana made her way back towards Brittany and Jenna, bringing Zoey along by the hand. She made sure not to smile, that would be like kicking a puppy when it was down. Not that she was above gloating in general. Au contraire.

Approaching them finally; Zoey announced loudly, skipping in place with excitement, "Mama won!"

"Congratulations, San," Brittany offered with a smile. _It is the natural thing to say, right?_ She pondered in her head. That was why she didn't want this in the first place. The situation was awkward.

"Thanks," Santana replied, matching the smile. She was allowed then, right? "I lucked out," she added with faux-modesty, holding a cheap looking bouquet of flowers and wearing a gold medal around her neck.

"Congratulations," Jenna offered without a smile, though. She _had_ lost, now she had to eat the humble pie.

Santana nodded her acceptance. "You got what? Twelfth place, right?" She asked, not maliciously, just in an attempt to be at least a graceful winner. Jenna nodded silently and Brittany shifted her gaze from the brunette to her wife and back. "You did well, there were at least forty-five women there," she added for good measure.

Brittany was thankful to the fact that Santana was actually being sort of nice about the whole thing. It made her love her even more. If that was even possible. So, she offered her one of her sweet smiles, which Santana gladly accepted.

"Can I see your medal, Mama?" Zoey asked with a smile, reaching up for it.

"Not only see it but _keep_ it," Santana answered playfully, taking the thing off and putting around the girl's neck. "It's all yours," she added ceremoniously, looking down at the beaming kid. It felt damn good to be a winner.

"Really?" The little girl asked with disbelief, clutching the gold medal with her small hand while looking up at Santana with bright blue eyes.

"Really," Santana confirmed promptly.

Jenna felt like it was too much. She wanted that Sunday morning to be over and she wanted her home. "I think we should get going, honey. I'm tired," she said evenly, looking sideways at Brittany.

Santana tried to ignore the angry feelings at the sound of the term of endearment, but she failed. And she had been playing so nicely… Oh, well…

So, the brunette doctor said slowly, "Yeah, you should go and get some rest… You see, the thing about a marathon is that one may get a head start and develop this _foolish_ idea that they are actually winning when, all of the sudden, someone from behind comes in and _bam_… When one realizes they already lost."

Jenna held Santana's stare for a while and Brittany was actually oblivious to the whole hidden message. "I see…" was all that Jenna said before turning sideways to Brittany. "Let's go?" She asked, taking the dancer's hand in hers and ignoring Santana's '_warning_', despite actually fearing it inside.

"Okay," Brittany replied softly and then she turned to Santana and said, "PTA meeting tomorrow. Don't forget. I'll call you later with the details." The brunette nodded her understanding.

After exchanging their short goodbyes – long when it came to Zoey regarding Santana – the brunette doctor watched pensively as her ex-wife and daughter walked away from her with that other woman. _Yes_, she had won. Then why was _Gemma_ walking home with the only prizes that really mattered? It _didn't_ seem fair. It _did_ seem like the green-eyed blonde was usurping her place. After watching them disappear through the crowd, Santana unconsciously sighed, threw the cheap bouquet into the nearest trashcan and jogged the rest of the way home, actually feeling like the ultimate loser.

* * *

><p>That early afternoon Monday, Santana parked her black Range Rover in front of Brittany's studio. They had that PTA meeting at Zoey's school and Brittany asked her if she could give her a ride since the blonde's car, or the <em>other<em> blonde's car – Santana wasn't exactly sure, she stopped paying attention when the 'J' name was uttered – was at the shop.

Santana killed the engine and debated whether she should just honk her horn, but that always seemed totally distasteful to her; so, she got out and started walking towards the dance studio. She got inside and saw Annie behind the desk, working on something.

"Annie," she greeted of sorts, approaching the desk quickly and successfully grabbing the attention of the older woman.

"Santana, sweetie… How nice to see you," Annie replied with a smile, looking up from the books into brown eyes. She usually helped Brittany with the financial/administrative side of the business, which her daughter had zero inclination for. Annie was Brittany's Lima Quinn.

"You, too," Santana shot back genuinely. "So, where's Britt? We're going to be late," she added, looking around unconsciously, trying to spot the leggy dancer.

"Oh, she went real quick to the diner in the corner. You can fetch her there," the blue-eyed woman offered casually, putting a pen down.

"Alright; thanks, Annie. I'll talk to you later, ok?"

"Sure thing... You're expecting Rob later, right?"

"Yes, I am. Now let me go and rush your daughter or we'll arrive for _tomorrow's_ meeting," Santana joked lightheartedly with an easy smile, turning around to walk out the door.

Annie smiled and called out as the brunette left the studio. "Drive safe, honey."

Santana got into the car again and drove a bit further, parking in front of the diner. She didn't feel like getting down again, so she reached for her bag on the back seat. After some maneuvering she caught a hold of it and started fishing for her cell phone. Why she carried so much crap into her giant bag, she did not know. She finally found the device and quickly went through her contacts, successfully dialing Brittany. Since her head was down during that process she didn't see Brittany already approaching her black vehicle. Santana did hear the dancer's ringtone, though. So, she looked sideways and saw a smiling Brittany holding out her cell phone screen for the brunette to see that she was calling her while she was just outside the open passenger's window.

Santana ended the call, but not before getting a good look of the picture of herself that was displayed on Brittany's cell's screen.

While the blonde climbed into the passenger's seat of the car, balancing her unused cell in one hand and a tray with two smoothies on the other, Santana asked with surprise, "Where did you get that picture of me?"

"What picture?" Brittany asked in confusion while putting her cell phone back into her bag that hung on her shoulder, mindful of the smoothie plastic cups.

"The one on your cell," the brunette clarified evenly, looking to her side at a busy blonde while still gently gripping the wheel.

The picture was of a sleeping Santana and Zoey covered by a white blanket. The kid had one arm slung across the woman's midsection. It was positively adorable.

"Oh, it's from that time you two were camping on your living room and I let myself in," the dancer offered with little consequence, finally finished getting settled on the car seat properly.

"You mean, you _broke_ in, right?" Santana corrected softly, receiving an orange-y smoothie from an aloof Brittany.

The blue-eyed woman just shrugged cheekily and grabbed the pinkish smoothie from the cardboard tray, discarding it on top of the dashboard while taking a sip from the straw.

Santana shook her head dismissively, but wore a tiny smile. "You're so…" the brown-eyed woman trailed on, unable to find the right way to describe the dancer.

"Full of resources?" Brittany attempted to finish her sentence with a playful smile playing on her lips as she fastened her seatbelt.

"Full of _something_," Santana quipped suggestively, a smirk taking over the tiny smile before she took a sip of her own smoothie, which it happened to be her favourite flavour. The discovery made her smirk turn into a sweet smile in matter of seconds. Brittany had remembered.

"Hey!" Brittany protested with fake indignation, but chuckled nonetheless.

"Thanks for the smoothie," the brunette doctor said softly, sweet smile still in place as she held those blue eyes for emphasis.

Brittany caught the shift of the mood and the sweetness behind Santana's eyes and smile. She wasn't exactly sure about the reason behind it, though. But she wouldn't let it go to waste, so she held the stare back until Santana started the car and broke it.

"No problem. _I_ should be the one thanking _you_ for the ride," Brittany replied as they started moving down the street towards Zoey's school.

"Glad to help," Santana stated simply, eyes on the road.

"So, you're meeting Dad later?"

"Yeah, he'll stop by my place."

"Mom said you are giving your parents' clothes to Dad's Union charity project," Brittany said tentatively, usually Santana didn't like to talk about such things.

"It was time," Santana put simply. Her full attention on the road but she stole a quick glance at Brittany, who looked at her with tender eyes.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah… like I said, it was time." She offered the blonde an appreciative smile, who felt satisfied with the brunette's honest answers.

They rode in comfortable silence for a while, drinking their delicious smoothies. The radio kept them company since Santana, unfortunately – or fortunately, considering _Brittany_ was riding with her? – forgot her iPod home. In little time they made it to Zoey's school, discarding their empty, disposable lidded plastic cups before entering their daughter's classroom. Every set of parents had their individual alone time scheduled with the teacher to discuss their little ones.

Miss Andrews, Zoey's new kindergarten teacher, greeted them from her desk as they took their seats across from her, "Hello, you must be…" she looked down at a file and back up, "…Mrs. and, uh…" she paused briefly, "…Mrs. Lopez-Pierce," the mid-thirties sandy-blonde woman concluded somewhat awkwardly, but with a smile.

Santana took the lead as she replied offhandedly, "Actually, it's Miss Lopez and Mrs. Pierce. We're divorced." She smiled faintly for appearance's sakes while Brittany still felt uncomfortable hearing those words from Santana's mouth. From _anyone's_ mouth, really.

"I see…" the woman trailed on with an apologetic, tight-lipped smile. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Brittany felt the need to say something, a wry smile plastered on her face.

"So, you're Zoey's parents?" Miss Andrews asked evenly, moving along.

"Yes," Brittany replied proudly, a genuine smile overtaking her previous one.

"Well, it's still early on the school year," the congenial woman said, meeting Brittany's and Santana's gaze full-on, "and this first meeting with the parents is mostly dedicated to establish a basis to a solid relationship, but I can tell you now that Zoey is a very promising student."

"That's good to know," Santana stated with a satisfied grin.

"She is attentive, bright, communicative, very well-spoken…" Miss Andrews started to say, stealing another glance at the file ahead of her before looking up again. "She gets along nicely with the other students and, from what I've seen so far, Zoey has everything to thrive this year."

"That sounds like our Zoey," Brittany couldn't help but remark, looking sideways to exchange yet another proud smile with Santana.

"I was talking to Miss Miller earlier, you know, we teachers like to trade some cards to get to know the little ones better," the brown-eyed teacher attempted to joke and Brittany and Santana smiled to please her. "And the only thing that I feel like I must mention – and this is no reason for concern – is the fact that Zoey seems to be a bit more involved in little disagreements with other classmates. Especially with a boy named Russell."

"Really?" Brittany asked with surprise, her eyebrows slightly furrowed while Santana bit her bottom lip. The dancer knew that Russ boy was trouble, but even so. "I always tell her to be the bigger person."

"I understand, like I said it's nothing big, it's normal and nothing to worry about –" Miss Andrews started to say again, but Santana sort of interrupted her.

"I think that has something to do with me," the brunette said honestly, feeling not only the teacher's direct and puzzled gaze at her but also Brittany's from her side.

They kept looking at her expectantly, so she felt the need to elaborate.

"Zoey complained that this kid in special did and said some things she wasn't in agreement with and I told her it was ok to, uh," she tried to look for the right way to put it, "push back, sort to speak, if you were pushed first," Santana finished with conviction, looking from Miss Andrews to Brittany and back. "Only if she was pushed first, I made that clear," she amended resolutely, always with the need to make her case.

"San…" Brittany trailed on with a lace of reproach in her tone, even though she kinda saw the point there. But, then again, she _always_ saw the points Santana ever tried to make.

"What?" The brunette asked, turning around a bit to meet the dancer directly. "That boy seems like a little troublemaker, Britt. Besides, she should learn to fend for herself," she added matter-of-factly. "Right?" She asked evenly, turning to Miss Andrews for _some_ validation. _Any_, really.

"Nobody is wrong here, ladies, and Russell really is a handful. But, I think that if you mix Mrs. Pierce's" she looked at Brittany with a smile, "friendly approach with Miss Lopez's" the teacher looked at Santana, smile still showing, "incisive one you will get the ideal results. And Zoey is the living proof of that," the sandy-blonde finished matter-of-factly.

Santana and Brittany relaxed entirely at the sound of that and exchanged another smile. _What?_ Zoey had that effect on them.

"She is doing just fine, moms… Relax," Miss Andrews stated reassuringly with a knowing smile. Parents often over-worried. "I only thought I'd mention that for thoroughness' sakes."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," Santana said and really meant it.

"_We_ are," Brittany reiterated matter-of-factly.

After a little more chatter they shook hands with the nice teacher and said their goodbyes, Brittany and Santana left the classroom with light, proud hearts while another set of parents entered the room for their appointed meeting.

Side by side the two women were slowly walking down the school's hallways in comfortable silence. Their swinging hands would graze one another's every once in a while and Brittany tried to ignore the feeling that coursed through her body every time it happened. The overwhelming desire to grab Santana's hand and intertwine their fingers like she did a million times before in the past was becoming too loud to shut down, and Brittany wished she could forget how wonderful that felt like because it would be easier. However, in earnest, she could never really wish the memories of those feelings away. So, the dancer shoved her hand into her pants' pocket to avoid temptation altogether.

Brittany put those thoughts aside and said with a smile, moving to another topic that filled her mind, "Have I told you before how nice it is co-parenting with you?"

A wide smile took over Santana's features without as much as a warning. That one came out of left field but, then again, it was Brittany. Most things usually did. She was used to it by then.

"Once or twice," Santana replied lightheartedly and semi-dismissively, catching the blonde's figure from the corner of her eye as they walked.

"I'm serious, San," Brittany said in fact seriously, turning her head sideways to catch the brunette's eyes, which she did. "I'm so happy that Zoey gets to have you in her life," she added in a softer tone, and both knew the full underlying meaning of that statement.

Santana swallowed hard, clutching the strap of her purse with more intensity. When Brittany said stuff like that… _Oh, Boy!_

"I'm glad you get to rub off your awesomeness on her," Brittany continued playfully, but deadly serious all the same, with a satisfied smile on her pick lips.

Santana had to chuckle that time around, but it quickly morphed into a sweet smile. It always amazed the brunette how Brittany saw her. Since they first met, really. The blue-eyed woman saw this fantastic person, full of qualities and distinction and worth. The total opposite of how Santana saw herself. After a while, and much work on Brittany's end, Santana actually started to see herself through Brittany's eyes and _that_ had made all the change. _Brittany _had made all the change. And, deep down, Santana feared she would revert to old behaviours bit by bit within each day she passed without Brittany.

With all that in mind, Santana replied softly while they walked even slower, "_You_ rub off your awesomeness on her." Short pause. Heavy eye contact. "You are the most awesome person I know," she added so candidly that it rendered both of them slightly embarrassed, but Brittany's megawatt smile upon hearing those words eclipsed anything and everything around or within them.

After recovering from the warm fuzzies, Brittany replied cheerily as they reached the school's front doors, "Well, Zoey's the luckiest kid, then. She gets double awesome. Awesome all around!"

"I think this conversation officially made its way into the Guinness book for most use of the word 'awesome' ever," Santana quipped as she and Brittany smiled wide, making their way down the school's front steps.

"Should we say a quick 'hi' to Zo?" Brittany asked, running a hand through perfect blonde hair. Or so Santana assessed.

The kids from the kindergarten had been playing on the school's playground under the watchful eye of a supervisor while the meetings with the parents were being held by their teacher.

"Sure," Santana replied promptly and they started walking around the school towards the back area where the outdoors playground was.

"Ashley woke up, by the way. I forgot to tell you," Santana said out of the blue and Brittany broke out into a broad smile. "She's doing great."

"Oh, My God! That is wonderful news," Brittany replied with sheer excitement. "Her parents must be over the moon."

"They are."

"I have to tell Mom later. Ally, too."

Santana nodded gladly. They soon arrived there and started watching the kids play through the green welded wire mesh fence. It didn't take long for them to spot Zoey, animatedly playing around with Gracie by her side. Their daughter didn't see them right away, though.

"She's such an amazing kid…" Brittany sort of thought out loud, a peculiar little smile taking over as they watched Zoey running around happily.

"I know… We're very lucky," Santana replied morosely with the same kind of smile, taking in their daughter's sight like Superman takes in the Sun's rays.

A moment of serene silence took over them.

Brittany broke it, though. "She's getting so big," she said wistfully, tearing her gaze from Zoey to look over at Santana for a while. Her eyes made it back to the kid when she added with astonishment, "Last week I tried to put her red Chucks on her feet and it didn't fit. I bought it just last year!"

Santana chuckled and replied evenly with amusement, "Yeah, she already lost some of the clothes I bought her back in New York, too."

Another moment of silence fell between them as they kept on watching an unsuspecting Zoey.

Santana broke it that time as she stated with some hesitation, "I thought you'd have another kid by now." That got Brittany's attention and she turned around to meet Santana's gaze directly. The action made Santana add softly while they sort of leaned sideways on the fence, "If I'm not mistaken you," she was going for 'we' but caught on in time, "wanted kids with an age difference no higher than three years." Brittany smiled wistfully but kept silent and Santana's word vomit continued due to that. "Hell, you would have made me pop a baby by now!" The brunette chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

It was true, though. They had a deal that Brittany would have the first baby and when the first-born had two, no more than three years, it would be Santana's turn.

Brittany chuckled as well and, as the idea flourished in her mind, she couldn't help the feeling of missing something she never really got to have. "I know…" was all that she could muster to answer weakly.

"I mean, you and _her_…" Santana trailed on while looking down at her shoes for a moment, unable to bring herself to say the name. Not even the wrong one. So, she rephrased softly, capturing Brittany's wistful blue eyes again, "You guys never thought of… You know." She couldn't bring herself to fully ask either, so it seemed.

Brittany replied honestly, there was really no alternative with Santana, "She wanted to." The dancer omitted the name as well but held those magnetic brown eyes. She had caught on to the brunette's difficulty with it, and the last thing she wanted was to hurt Santana in any way, shape or form. The _last_ thing. "But I wasn't ready. I don't know… It just never felt quite right," Brittany added in a low tone. Santana held her gaze but didn't say anything. So, she felt compelled to keep going. "Zoey's pregnancy was a bit difficult for me, as you can imagine," she finished with a wry smile that cut deep into Santana's heart while she could only nod in response.

Those were the general things she told Jenna, and herself, whenever the 'b' word was brought up by her wife. Deep, _deep_ down she knew they were lies, really. She simply didn't want to have kids with anyone other than Santana. It had been the truth when the brunette was in a coma, and it kept being the truth when she got out of it. Only it became a much harder truth to swallow or face. Eventually, after telling Jenna and herself those things for a long time, Brittany actually started to believe in them. 99% of her did, anyhow. That 1% _always_ knew.

"I can…" Santana managed to reply after a few seconds of emotionally heavy silence. And then she flashed a sympathetic smile Brittany's way.

They held each other's gaze for a little longer. Brittany finally shook her head to try and shake those feelings off, and said in a cheerier tone with a broad smile, "Have dinner with us tonight."

"No, thank you," Santana replied without skipping a beat. Last thing she wanted was a night with Four Eyes.

Brittany knew very well the reason of the immediate dismissal: her wife. So, she added promptly with a raised eyebrow, "Jenna has an AA meeting tonight. She won't be home." And then her tone went to excited, "It'll be just you, me and Z. We could watch a movie first and then have dinner. It'll be fun." The prospect alone sent the dancer to cloud nine.

Santana had to admit. It sounded awfully nice, _but_… "I'm sorry, B. I really can't tonight. I promised Riley I would drive to Dayton to pick her up at nursing school and have dinner there later." The look of disappointment and clear-as-day hurt made Santana avert her eyes for a while. Despite the fact that it _was_ her doing, it _wasn't_ all the same.

"Oh, I see," Brittany replied, trying to sound as even as she could. "It's okay," she added without missing a beat, putting on a forced smile.

"I would reschedule but she got a ride there since I told her it was okay to leave that death contraption she calls a car at home."

"It's cool, San."

"I –" Santana began to say but was interrupted by Zoey, who had spotted them seconds earlier and came running their way.

"Mommy, Mama!" Zoey exclaimed with a broad smile on her lips as she pressed her little body against the green fence.

"Hey, honey," Brittany cooed, returning the smile.

"Hey, baby," Santana replied at the same time as her ex, matching their kid's smile as well.

"What are you doing here? Is it time to leave already?" Zoey asked with a terribly adorable look of confusion on her face.

"No, we came for that meeting with Miss Andrews, remember?" Brittany replied tenderly with the utmost patience that always managed to tug at Santana's heartstrings. The dancer was an excellent mother.

"Oh, yeah," Zoey said while nodding her head. She had forgotten about that.

"We only stopped by to say a quick 'hi' to you. Are you having fun out there?" Santana said softly through the fence.

"Tons!" The blue-eyed brunette girl replied a bit too loudly.

Brittany and Santana chuckled.

"I'll pick you up later, bug. And we'll have to walk Poppy a little earlier today," Santana offered casually, getting really close to the green welded wire mesh fence.

"Why?" Zoey asked, ever-so-curious, while looking up at her Mama.

Santana hesitated a bit. Zoey had met Riley before. One brief time more after they randomly ran into the ginger at the coffee shop actually. "I have to pick Riley up at nursing school. Way over in Dayton," she answered honestly.

Zoey had been thinking about that for a while. And she always thought that there was no time like the present to ask your parents stuff. Especially since she had this tiny suspicion that the answer could put a damper on her recently developed wants and needs.

"Mama, is Riley your girlfriend?" Zoey came right out and asked with a straight face.

Santana looked like a deer caught in the headlights. That kid was too precocious and perceptive for their own good. Brittany just stood there feeling mighty awkward about the whole thing. So, it wasn't only her who wondered...

The brunette doctor chanced a look at Brittany, but the blonde wouldn't answer for her. Would she? No. That was her bullet to take… as graciously as she possibly could. After deliberating under the severe pressure and scrutiny of a four (and a half) year old, Santana replied meekly, "Yes. She is."

Zoey slowly looked from Santana to Brittany and finally back. She crossed her little arms over her chest and stated with a serious look on her pretty face, "No me gusta."

"What?" Santana asked with confusion, furrowing her brows as her eyes travelled from Zoey to a just-as-confused Brittany and back. The situation was sort of bizarre.

"No me gusta," Zoey repeated evenly, this time a trademark pout took over her pink lips.

Santana tried to clarify things while doing some damage control as well. She wasn't expecting _that_ from their daughter. That's for sure. "I know you haven't spent much time with Riley. But, don't you like her, Z?"

Brittany was getting flashes of her own conversation with their daughter. And she didn't envy Santana's spot at that moment. Zoey was clearly on a well-rehearsed mission.

"She's fine," the little girl said with conviction. "I just want you and Mommy to be together," she added genuinely and matter-of-factly, looking between her mommies with a look that stated that it should be obvious to them. After all, she already had expressed those feelings to both of them before.

Brittany felt like stepping in and helping out a bit as she said softly, "We've talked about this before, baby."

"Yeah, we've talked about this, too," Santana added on just as softly, glad for the assistance.

"Zoey!" A boy's voice called out the little girl from the playground, and she turned her head to see who it was. It was Jeremy calling her from the swings.

Pressed for time Zoey simply said in her regular tone of voice, "Well, that's what I want. Now I have to go push Jeremy." And she dashed away, calling out a loud 'Bye!' along the way.

Santana and Brittany were left there stunned. Their daughter was something else… _Should they talk about it? Should they bring it back up?_ Those thoughts were running a mile a minute through both their heads.

Brittany decided that they ought to, but when she went on to broach the topic Santana cut her off as she said solemnly, "Come on, I'll drop you off at the studio."

_Guess we're not talking about it_; Brittany thought as they started walking to Santana's car.

_It's better not to stir shit_; Santana thought. _It will most likely stink._

_She_ knew. She was almost sure that _Brittany_ knew as well, and _Zoey_ would come to know eventually that that line from that notorious song was more than just a line. It was an absolute truth: _you can't always get what you want_.

Perhaps, one day, the three of them would come to know as well that the next line was just as truthful.

_But if you try sometimes, well, you just might find you get what you need._

…

_When_ you _really _need it.

* * *

><p><strong>All the final seeds I had to plant are finally planted. Next chapter: what you guys have been waiting for, so it seems. Expect a class reunion. Things will go down there but, again, no assuming ;)<strong>  
><strong>Reviews are always appreciated!<strong>  
>Oh, and Novacain, hit me a PM so we can discuss your remarks. I can't reply if you're not signed in.<p>

_* This line is so unbelievably amazing and it tears my poor little heart. (Had to be said)_


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Glee _nor its original characters (if I did it would probably be called _The Brittany and Santana Show_, and all the other characters would only be there to help advance their plot).

**A/N: **Hi, dear readers! I must say how sorry I am for taking this long to update. Even though it wasn't that long. Yes, work has been cray cray but that is nothing new. I must shoulder my share of blame for having had procrastinated quite a lot. There were just too many films on my to-watch queue, too many social gatherings to attend to, a shiny new book to read... and, yeah, I'll take my share of the blame. Apologies, lovelies. The fact that I had to write in other gleeks in this chapter didn't help either. My thing really is Brittany and Santana. They really didn't motivate me. I don't know why I thought about a reunion back then. I should have set up a regular party or something. But I made my bed, so I had to get fucked in it *lol*

*** This chapter goes out to: **xSwayx**, for providing me many more-than-needed breathers *lol* Even, though you guys can totally blame her for delaying my updates. I kid, I kid, don't hurt the kid :) To **Hazelp**, because I'll be waiting for my Hamm to arrive on the mail this week. To **WehO Believe**, because dude, didn't you read my warning? Should I add judgemental and proud to my list of attributes, too? Because it is true. Ah, to hell with it. Yes! I accept your proposal. Let's have an affair to remember, darling. Let's meet at the top of the Empire State Building and let's beware of any vehicles keen on running over happy lovebirds :D And to **Ariana** for the critique. Boring, really? Ouch! That one almost hurt. Almost. I will endeavour to make things better. Too bad CGI don't work in writing. Oh, well...

**Readers, 1000+ reviews!** You guys are... You managed to make me speechless. That's an achievement. Congrats! Thanks for the love and hope you enjoy the new chapter. Again, it's a long one. Oh, and international readers, be not afraid to post reviews in fear of butchering the English language. I don't hail from an English-speaking country and I don't let that stop me from writing this and butchering it myself. So, you shouldn't either. Cheers, mates!  
>Oh, and to answer a general question: no. The other characters here won't really have a storyline. Just read the disclaimer and you'll know their roles in MSSG. I just find myself skimming through their unrelated-to-Brittany-and-Santana parts in the other 4, no, 3 stories (one got completed) I read here. So, I tailored my story to my personal taste :D<p>

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><p><strong>Mischances, Stances and Stolen Glances<br>**_||Chapter Sixteen||_

Santana was about to enter the doctors' lounge for some much needed coffee that long morning as Danes was making his way out of it. They almost bumped into each other.

"Coffee?" Danes asked knowingly in an abbreviated way as they stood in front of each other.

"Yeah," the brunette replied with little enthusiasm, adjusting her stethoscope around her neck. It often tended to slip.

"_Garcia_," the tall man informed in the same fashion as before, but added a mild frown for good measure. He too had been keen on a cup of hot Joe.

"For crying…" Santana trailed off, hanging her head with frustration. "Just my luck," she added with a shake of head.

"Just _our_ luck," Danes amended with exasperation of his own, running a hand through his somewhat long black hair.

"I can't go another second without my fix. I'll swing by the coffee shop down the road real quick," Santana informed, adorning her white doctor coat. "Espresso, right?" She enquired knowingly, briefly pointing her index finger at her friend.

Danes smiled at her and replied evenly as Santana started her walk, "Make that a double."

"You got it," the brown-eyed woman called out from a bit afar.

"Have I told you how much I love you, Lopez?" Danes called out back, a playful smirk on his lips.

Santana turned her head around mid-walk to reply playfully as well, "You'll love me less when I relate this conversation to Naomi when I see her. My guess is she won't be pleased." And then she winked at the man, who smiled lightheartedly in return.

Santana was passing by the nurses' station and stopped to talk to Nurse Simpson.

"I'm making a run to the coffee shop," she informed casually, handing the older woman behind the desk her stethoscope, "If anyone needs me I'm on my cell, okay?" She added and the nurse nodded her understanding and, as on schedule, Santana's cell phone started to ring.

Santana fished the device out of her white doctor's coat's pocket while making her way to the automatic front doors. She suspected it was Quinn. _Again_. So, she was ready to reject the call, but as she looked at the screen Santana saw a picture of Jimmy theatrically looking into space.

Accepting the call Santana greeted with no ceremony as she stepped outside the hospital, "Jimmy. What's up?"

"Are you screening Quinn's calls?" Jimmy asked point-blank.

"What?" Santana replied immediately, a little bite in her tone despite her full knowledge of the subject.

"You heard me, San," the hazel-eyed man shot back just as quickly. "Are you screening Quinn's calls?" He repeated slowly for effect.

"No," Santana replied with her petulant childish tone, clearly lying and in a huff as she walked down the street. "My battery died earlier. You know how I always forget to charge it," she added promptly, mixing some truth with the lie to sound honest. She did often forget to recharge her phone.

"And after you recharged it?" Jimmy asked knowingly and Santana could almost picture the British man raising one suspicious eyebrow at her.

"Fine! Yes, I am screening her calls," the brown-eyed woman conceded tiredly. It was too early and her coffee withdrawal wasn't helping her keep her stance. "I already know what she's going to say anyways," she added, back with her huffy tone. Ever since she received the class reunion invite in the mail Santana knew a couple of days later when Quinn and Rachel received theirs she could expect a call.

"Yeah, well, unfortunately, so do I," Jimmy replied in the same tone as his friend. "I don't want to keep hearing about your bloody reunion. At _morning_. On my _day off_."

"Well, neither do I. Hence the screening," Santana said clearly and matter-of-factly, stuffing a hand into her white coat's pocket as she walked a bit faster.

"You have any idea how annoying they can be? Before you correct me; _yes_, you heard me right. I said '_they_'. Quinnie's Midget called me, too. Her voice is sooo high for this hour… _Ever_, really," James complained in his own whiny voice. "I wonder how Quinn tolerates it," he deadpanned to himself.

"You could screen their calls, too. No one is forcing you to pick up, you know?"

"You know I'm too polite for that."

Santana scoffed at the sound of that, her steps getting slower again.

"They are just harassing you so you can harass _me_ on their behalf," Santana said knowingly, shaking her head at her friends' behaviour.

"Don't you think I know that?" The British man asked calmly and sort of rhetorically. "I know, and I'm gladly playing my part if it means I can be left out of this whole thing between you ladies," he added with conviction. "Women…" Jimmy trailed on tiredly.

Santana and James fell in silence as she took in what he had said.

After some deliberation Santana decided she didn't want to talk any further about that. So, she changed the subject less than subtly, "How is Claire?"

"Wonderful. We have another date tonight. You could start looking into plane tickets now, I think. I'm convinced I'll beat Kirsten's Law this time around," Jimmy related with excitement, which brought a little smile to the brunette's lips. Truth was: she liked seeing, well _hearing_, her friend happy.

Brushing off the smile, Santana replied with faux-resentment in her tone, "You're still not allowed to mention her name."

"Sorry, my mistake... I'll beat _You-Know-Who's_ Law," Jimmy played along with amusement and a sweet tone of voice, rephrasing his earlier statement. He paused briefly. "Now call Quinn," he added with zero sweetness. "Get her and _especially_ Berry off my ass," he finished more like a plea. His accent while uttering that last word still managed to put him in Santana's good graces.

"Fine, _James_. I'll call her now," Santana replied, feigning annoyance.

"_Thank you_," James said plainly, stressing each word. "Now I can enjoy the rest of my day off in peace. Talk to you later."

"Bye," the brunette woman uttered before ending the call. She immediately started fussing with her phone to call her annoying blonde friend.

On the third ring Quinn picked up. "Look who decided to call back," was the blonde's sweet greeting laced with sarcasm. "I see James has been a good boy," she added in her velvety tone. Santana couldn't deny it: Quinn did have an alluring voice.

"Your Dwarf managed to traumatize him for life," Santana shot back offhandedly, not letting Quinn's nice voice deter her. Changing gears the brunette asked directly as she entered the familiar coffee shop, "What do you want, Fabray?" Feigning ignorance had been her chosen tactic.

"Like you don't know," Quinn called her bluff and emitted a scoff sound while Santana scowled and approached the counter. Lenny, the coffee guy who usually served her, was behind it.

Scowl still in place Santana said evenly on the phone, "One second, Quinn. I'm at the coffee shop." And then she redirected her gaze to the smiling coffee guy, and said while dislodging the cell phone slightly away from her mouth, "Lenny, one –"

"Tall nonfat vanilla latte," the guy in his early twenties filled in her order, smile still in place. Santana was a definite regular and usually ordered the same thing when she was at work, which the white doctor's coat gave away.

"Yeah, and a double espresso also, please," Santana replied quickly.

Taking in the woman's scowl, Lenny chanced playfully as he readied the order, "Someone's in a bad mood."

Not feeling the slightest amused, Santana shot back promptly but without snark, "I know I'm usually nice to you, Lenny, because – let's face it – you have the coffee, _but_ I'm not above hurting when I can't kill, you catch my drift?"

Lenny chuckled at the brunette's antics. She had always been an interesting customer in a valley of dull sheep. "Message received," he said with a small smile and a single head nod as he got the coffees ready.

Santana went back to her call. "I'm back, Fabray. So…" the brown-eyed doctor prompted aloofly, moving over to one of the big windows to look outside while she waited for her order.

"You're really making me ask, huh?" Quinn asked and sighed. "Fine... Are you going to our reunion, Santana?" The blonde knew the answer already. Santana knew Quinn knew it. And Quinn knew Santana knew she knew the answer. Sometimes the games they played could become quite elaborated, but _still_ they played. _Friendship…_

"No, I'm not going, Quinn," Santana stated plainly, playing her part diligently.

"May I ask why?" The blonde manager shot back just as plainly.

Before Santana could answer they both heard Lenny calling out, "Your order's ready Doctor Lopez."

Quinn took the hint and waited until Santana grabbed her coffees and paid the guy. _Lenny_, so it seemed from what she had heard. When Quinn heard the ring of a bell assuming Santana had walked out of the shop, but the brunette still said nothing, Quinn prodded, "I'm waiting, S…"

It wasn't that Santana was avoiding the subject. She was only trying to take a sip of her latte whilst still on the cardboard tray along with Danes'. Holding the cell phone against her ear as she tried to do that proved to be problematic.

"Sorry, I was just trying to… Forget it," Santana began explaining but decided against it. And then she went back to the topic at hand. She had nothing to hide from Quinn when it came to that. "I won't go because it will be awkward and embarrassing as shit. All those people hearing about Brittany and me… Passing judgement…" she trailed on, feeling antsy just at the thought of it.

The mere idea of all those people from her past taking a look at her life, judging her and her relationship to the dancer without knowing anything, feeling sorry for her or even pity… knowing and rubbing off on her face the fact that she had lost Brittany, that they were _Santana and Brittany;_ how could they not be together anymore? Maybe some of those thoughts were product of her own twisted imagination, but she couldn't help them. And she couldn't help fearing them either. Welcome to a proud person's mind. Not always the most pleasant place to be. And the worst part of it all is that she actually cared. Something about that damned placed called Lima, Ohio, paired with words like _McKinley High_ Class Reunion, plus the whole situation she found herself in, was actually starting to bring up old Santana trades like preoccupying herself with what people said behind her back, or to her face for that matter. She had always worried about that in one level or another, really, there's no denying who you are, but over the years she had reigned over the issue. _Not any longer, I guess_; Santana mused.

"Come on… No one is going to judge you, Santana," Quinn said softly.

"Riiight," the brunette drawled out dryly, walking back to the hospital. "And yesterday I just stumbled on a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow on my way home," Santana added with sarcasm and took a deep breath. "Everybody judges everyone, Q. If anyone ought to know that it's you and me," she finished frankly.

"Are you implying that we're judgemental bitches?" Quinn shot back with such a blasé tone that brought an amused smile to the brunette doctor's lips.

"Are you denying it?" Santana retorted promptly, smile still in place and thoroughly entertained.

After a short beat the petite blonde stated unapologetically and evenly, "No, not really. I was just making sure."

They shared an out loud laugh. Both women missed each other's company and day-to-day interactive friendship. And God, they were bitches… At least they were fierce ones; the thought ran through their minds.

"Why are you so into this reunion anyhow?" Santana asked casually after their laughter subsided, the hospital coming to view as she walked with firm strides. "I didn't peg you as the type." They were similar in behaviour – that's why they clashed so much in the past and present – so if Santana wasn't into class reunions, she thought Quinn wouldn't be either.

"Well, I wasn't that into it but Rachel got so excited about it that she managed to put me in the spirit as well," Quinn said honestly and then she lowered her voice to add, "She even burned some CDs with songs from her theater career to give to the Glee people." Quinn was slightly embarrassed, Santana could tell. The lowered voice didn't help either.

"_Why_ did you marry Berry again?" Santana asked playfully, reaching the hospital's front but stopping instead of going in. She could finish her conversation first.

"She gives great –" Quinn began candidly to mess with Santana but the doctor cut her off before she could finish the sentence.

"Whoa, TMI, Quinn. _TMI_…" Santana interjected promptly, shaking her head and closing her eyes with force while balancing the coffees on the little tray. "Don't scar me for life, please," she added, opening up her eyes again as Quinn chuckled with satisfaction

"So, you're really not going?" Quinn asked for clarification's sakes, bringing the subject up again.

"No," Santana shot back nonchalantly but with conviction, going over to a bench in front of the hospital to take a seat. "But you guys are welcome to stay at my place as usual."

"Does Brittany know you're not going?"

"The topic hasn't been brought up in any of our recent conversations."

Santana mentally thanked the dancer for not bringing it up. Maybe she knew it'd be awkward, too; the brunette thought for a second.

"Is she going?" Quinn asked with interest.

"Like I said, we haven't talked about it," Santana replied with some exasperation, but just normal Santana exasperation. Nothing troublesome. "But knowing Britt, the social butterfly, like I do I'd bet all my riches she is _certainly_ attending," she added knowingly, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She couldn't help it. Still. _Ever_.

"I'll call her later and ask," Quinn informed casually. "Maybe _she_ can get you to go," the hazel-eyed woman added slyly.

"I wouldn't count on that if I were you," Santana retorted dismissively, crossing her legs on the bench. Nina Lopez still lived subconsciously in her head, telling Santana that ladies crossed their legs when they sat down.

"I miss the days you were seriously whipped," Quinn joked lightheartedly and as soon as the words left her mouth she sort of regretted them.

Santana seemed to have taken it on stride, though, because she joked back without skipping a beat, "Well, she can't use tactics now like withholding sex from me anymore, can she?" The truth was that Brittany never could. She had always wanted Santana just as badly as Santana wanted her. The brunette always caved because firstly, most things they 'fought' about never really mattered to her in the first place like she made it seem they did; and, secondly, because she liked seeing Brittany happy. People had trouble assimilating that and chucked it up to her being 'whipped'. She and the blue-eyed woman knew the truth, tough. They had _always_ known.

Quinn sighed with relief upon hearing Santana's reply. And then she said playfully with a smile, "You have a point. Maybe it's my goddaughter the one I have to give a call to." The jokes about the whip having exchanged hands were ever-present in their inner friends' circle after Jimmy brought it up.

"Funny… Those jokes never lose their comic relief, do they?" Santana quipped with sarcasm, and then she impishly changed the subject, "I have to go now, Quinn. I have to work and my coffee is getting cold thanks to you."

"Always glad to help," Quinn replied with fake overly sweetness.

"Call me when you have the flight information. I'll pick you up at the airport," Santana said, lifting herself up from the bench. "You guys are still coming Friday, late afternoon, right?" She asked and Quinn hummed her confirmation. "Okay…" Santana finished, walking to the hospital's automatic front doors.

"Oh, and Lopez, just so you know I'm still not done with getting you to go," Quinn said cheekily.

"Wouldn't expect any less from you, Fabray," Santana shot back just as cheekily. "You always did use to say that misery loves company." The brunette smiled widely, crossing the hospital's front doors.

Quinn matched Santana's smile on the other end of the line without knowing it. "See you Friday," the blonde said.

"Yeah, see ya," Santana replied and ended the call, putting the cell in her white doctor's coat pocket as she went to look for Danes to give him his coffee whilst eagerly downing her own.

* * *

><p>Brittany walked along the pathway on the side of Santana's house that led to her backyard. It was already dark outside but the path, which was surrounded by green grass, was well-lit by plenty tasteful garden lights. She had heard voices coming from there when she arrived at the front of the house and decided to follow them. Arriving at the backyard Brittany smiled at the sight of Santana and their friends, Quinn and Rachel, all sat down at a big garden table whilst talking and laughing on the patio. The smile fell slightly when her eyes registered the presence of a certain redhead as well.<p>

"Britt!" Rachel exclaimed with enthusiasm when the blonde's presence was spotted from a bit afar.

All heads on the table turned to her. So, Brittany picked her smile back up for appearance's sakes and started walking towards them as her married friends stood up to hug her.

Quinn was the first one. "Britt, so good to see you," the petite blonde said to the taller one with a wide grin on her face, wrapping and unwrapping her arms around Brittany affectionately. And then Quinn took a step sideways to give room for Rachel to do the same.

"You too, Q," Brittany replied enthusiastically, being shortly after embraced by a smiling Rachel.

"I missed you," Rachel said softly in the middle of the embrace as Santana looked on at her ex and friends with a wistful smile.

"I missed you, too," Brittany replied with sheer honesty, pulling back from the hug as Quinn took her seat back at the table. "Both of you," the blue-eyed woman added, shifting her gaze from Rachel to Quinn and back while Riley watched them interact with a smile on her lips as well.

"I see your breaking and entering isn't limited to the inside of the house," Santana joked lightheartedly, her wistful smile turning into a lopsided puckish one as she put her wine glass on the table. "How did you even…" the brunette trailed on her obvious question with furrowed brows and tiny repetitive head shakes while Rachel reclaimed her seat beside Quinn.

Brittany locked blue eyes on brown ones and smirked before she replied like someone who was reciting a melodic and well-rehearsed verse, "Jiggle. Jiggle. Double twist, tiny push, and jiggle."

Santana chuckled loudly, which caused Quinn and Rachel to grin, and Riley to look at the brunette to her side with a curious expression before eating a piece of cold meat from one of the platters that sat on the garden table. Santana noticed none of those reactions, though, since her eyes were on Brittany's.

"I can't believe you remember that," Santana said with amusement and Brittany's smile reached broad status over that unexpected reaction while the married couple also sipped their wine. The 'code' was sort of a cheat to open the automatic door that led to the backyard.

"Of course I do. I've only done it a gazillion times since we were kids," Brittany said matter-of-factly, placing her hands on the back of one of the table's many chairs. "After you invented that verse so I could remember more easily I never did forget," she added tenderly with a sweet smile. Santana was always _the_ one who had a knack – and the patience – to make things easier and almost natural for her to understand. The brunette just got her… how her mind worked and how she thought. Perhaps that was one of the things Brittany missed the most about them. _Together_ them, that is.

Santana mimicked the sweet smile because, unlike the others on the table, she understood fully what Brittany meant by that.

"How did you find us back here?" Quinn asked in her velvety tone, popping a piece of cheese in her mouth. The lit pool a bit far behind her friend caught Brittany's eyes. She and Santana shared some serious sexy times in there, especially at nighttime impromptu swims. _Where_ did they not, really?

"I heard voices," Brittany replied, shaking the thoughts away. "Rachel mostly," she added with little consequence.

"Obviously," Santana quipped without skipping a beat, thankful to Brittany for the cue. And the doctor sipped her wine as Rachel gave her a dirty look that caused everyone else to smile.

"Hey, Brittany," Riley greeted politely, taking the first chance she got to chime in.

"Hi," Brittany replied politely as well, doing her best not to set her mind so rapidly on not-so-positive feelings about the ginger like she had done in the past. Which it was proving to be difficult already as the dancer was taking in the whole scenario of Riley sitting down, laughing and talking with her ex and friends over wine, cold meat, and cheese. _Cheese_, no less. _The audacity…_

There was a small silence but Rachel was quick to fill it. "Can we just talk about how much more adorable our goddaughter gets within each day?" The petite brunette asked with a smile, popping a piece of soy cheese – or _tasteless soy crap_, as Santana put it – into her mouth.

"You've seen her?" Brittany asked with a matching smile, looking at Rachel.

"She made sure I took her with me to the airport to pick them up before I took her to Gracie's," Santana informed with the same Zoey induced smile on her face as Brittany's eyes drifted to the doctor. Their little girl had a sleepover scheduled with her best friend.

"Yeah, we spent some time together but Zoey gladly ditched us for her best friend," Quinn chimed in playfully, earning a laugh from the dancer. And then the hazel-eyed blonde added suggestively with a sly smile, "Not before telling us some _peculiar_ ideas and plans that are going through her little mind, though." Quinn looked pointedly from Santana to Brittany and back. Rachel sent her wife a look that clearly stated that the blonde was up to mischief.

The former married couple hadn't witnessed that conversation, not even Santana, but they both had a clear idea of what Zoey's ideas were. The kid hadn't been shy about presenting them to her mommies throughout the past week. So, Brittany and Santana exchanged an awkward knowing look as Riley looked on clueless, not even remotely aware of what everyone was talking about.

Trying to avoid the touchy subject and simply ignoring Quinn's remark, Brittany shifted gears as she said, "Well, it's because of Zoey that I'm here actually." She looked at Santana. "I came to switch our phones back."

All the other women besides Santana and Brittany looked confused.

So, Santana clarified after taking a sip of wine, "Zoey was playing with our phones yesterday when Britt dropped her off and she accidentally switched them. I didn't even realize until today."

A smirk took over Quinn's lips. Considering the little chat she and Rachel had with Zoey earlier; if she knew her goddaughter like she did, the kid did not do that '_accidentally_'. At that moment Quinn loved Zoey a little bit more, if possible.

"Me neither," Brittany said casually.

"That's why I called your cell this afternoon and you didn't pick up," Riley piped in with a smile. For a moment there she thought Santana was avoiding her.

"Yeah, I saw the call but I thought it would be, uh, it would be weird if _I_ answered it," Brittany informed with an embarrassed tone, fidgeting with the wood of the back of the chair she was still supporting her weight on. The dancer left out the fact that Riley's picture in Santana's cell almost made her puke when it popped up on the screen. The redhead was blowing a kiss like some friggin' Victoria's Secret wannabe model; Brittany huffed at the memory.

A longer uncomfortable silence fell upon the five women. This time Quinn came to the rescue, though. "So, Britts, are you excited about our reunion?" The petite blonde asked with a grin plastered on her face.

The topic brought a big smile to Rachel's lips and a heavy scowl to Santana's features. Riley, on her end, looked interested in the subject she hadn't heard before. She thought Santana's friends were there for a regular visit and all.

"_Very_," Brittany answered with unabashed enthusiasm, causing Santana to roll her eyes. The motion was not lost on the blue-eyed woman, who decided to focus her eyes on Quinn. "I can't wait to see who is coming. I had some car trouble this week, so I had to take it to the shop and Mr. Hummel told me that Kurt is definitely coming. So is Finn," the dancer added casually with a congenial smile.

Rachel clapped her hands with sheer excitement. "Oh, My God! I can't wait to see everybody," she said in her high-pitched tone that aggravated Santana even more. "And give them my CDs," Rachel added in typical fashion, already hearing in her mind all the compliments she would get and salivating with anticipation over it.

Picking up on Santana's emitted bad vibes Quinn decided to poke the tiger as she stated nonchalantly, "Yeah, looks like Santana is the only one who is neither excited about it nor going to the reunion." And then she flashed the brunette doctor a lopsided smile, which granted her a famous Santana glare.

Brittany sighed but the atmosphere was tense enough for anyone to notice it. Quinn had told her about Santana's reluctance to attend. It made her sad.

"Why aren't you going to your reunion?" Riley asked with honest curiosity, looking sideways into her girlfriend's eyes. They hadn't talked about it yet but the emerald-eyed woman was pretty sure they were girlfriends by then. "It seems like fun," she added animatedly. It would definitely be cool if she got to go with the brunette.

Before answering the question Santana sent a look to Quinn that clearly stated 'thanks for that'. Going through her mind for a cover-up reason that didn't include any trace of the truth, Santana came out empty. Her eyes traveled briefly towards knowing and sad blue ones before averting sharply. "Reunions are stupid," the brown-eyed woman finally replied taciturnly, resorting to a childish evasive tactic while crossing her arms over her chest.

"Reunions aren't stupid, Santana," Rachel countered with her best teacher-student patronizing tone. "They are a fabulous way of reconnecting with old peers and rediscovering the joys of –"

"Not in the mood for a lecture, Berry," Santana cut the theater woman off with an exasperated tone of voice, downing a big gulp of wine. She could already feel a migraine coming as she pinched the bridge of her chiseled little nose.

"Help us knock some sense into Santana's thick head, B," Quinn said playfully with a sympathetic smile, trying to lighten up the mood a bit as she held the doctor's unamused stare whilst drinking some wine. She liked some messing as much as the next person, but she had seen her friend squirm enough.

"I think you should go, San," Brittany said in that utterly sweet voice Santana loved so much, meeting the brunette's gaze full-on without reservation.

Santana couldn't deny that Brittany's requests – especially when spoken like _that_ – still managed to have a hold of her. And as she held that piercing blue stare for a minute too long, it didn't take much for Riley to get an uneasy feeling settling in her stomach. Those two had something… some energy, some chemistry, some intimacy that was undeniable and that, frankly, set off her alarm's red lights like crazy.

Fighting her second nature, Santana replied evenly but also with softness that she couldn't help, "Duly noted." She continued to hold Brittany's stare, and Quinn and Rachel started to wonder how their friends had been putting up with _this_ much loaded tension of the feelings kind. "But I _still_ am not going," Santana added petulantly, dropping her gaze to her hands.

Before another uncomfortable silence could take place, like she sensed it was about to, Rachel said cheerfully as she took in the sight of Brittany just standing there awkwardly, "Come on, Britt. Don't just stand there… Sit down with us and have some wine." Only after she said the words Rachel realized that that would probably just increase and perpetuate the tension. Oh, well…

After the mess was done, Quinn felt the need to back up her wife. "Yeah, sit with us…" she said softly, pointing with her head towards an empty chair next to Rachel.

Brittany would love nothing more than to just sit there and talk to, and laugh with Santana and their friends like they had done many times before… but there was Riley. The blue-eyed woman felt out of place. Things were nothing like they were before. Chancing a look towards her ex her thoughts were confirmed, Santana also looked uncomfortable about it.

"I'd love to but I'll have to pass, guys," Brittany replied wistfully and politely, shifting her gaze to her long-time friends.

Santana rose to her feet and said with a tiny smile, understanding too well the difficult position the tall blonde was in, "Come inside, I'll get your phone." Brittany started moving towards the brunette and they made their way inside the house side-by-side while leaving the other three women to their get-to-know-each-other-better chat.

As Santana and Brittany were crossing the house's atrium, the blonde broke the comfortable silence as she asked casually, looking sideways at Santana while they walked, "Did I get any calls?"

"Ally called once. I picked up and after we chatted I told her she could reach you at my number, but she said it wasn't important," Santana replied while looking sideways to meet the dancer's eyes, taking a turn right and entering the back of the foyer with Brittany by her side.

"Yeah, she's been extra nice and attentive after going all Kanye on Jenna at Christmas," Brittany deadpanned with a wide smile on her face caused by Poppy, who came out of nowhere and started jumping on her legs, making both women stop their walking.

"Hey, Poppy! Who's a good girl? Who's a good girl, huh?" The dancer said in an infantile voice, shifting her gaze down at the dog whilst patting her. Santana watched them with a less enthusiastic expression on her face. "She always jumps on me," Brittany informed with glee, moving her eyes back to Santana's.

"Well, she can smell an easy target who'll indulge her needy ways," Santana quipped promptly whilst watching the blue-eyed woman patting the dog. And then the brunette changed back the subject to something more interesting. "What was that again with Ally going all Kanye on Lena? Is it something I'd like to know?" Santana asked and flashed a cheeky smile to Brittany, who stopped patting Poppy to look directly at her ex.

Brittany smirked before she replied teasingly, "Yes, it probably is." Short pause. "But you won't," she added, widening the smirk for effect.

"Fine," Santana conceded with a little smile on her lips, nodding her head repeatedly. And then she started walking towards the living room again, Brittany and Poppy followed as Santana added, "I'll just have to call and ask Allison myself then." She threw a look behind her shoulder at the dancer, wearing a smirk of her own and Brittany merely shook her head from side to side in response.

Santana made her way to the coffee table and grabbed Brittany's cell phone that sat on top of it. She turned around and the blue-eyed woman had just fished hers from her jacket's inside pocket.

"Here we go," Brittany stated in a funny voice, handing Santana her phone and taking hers in return.

"Did _I_ get any calls?" Santana asked absentmindedly, touching her cell's screen to confirm it was really hers for some reason. The picture of Zoey on her lock screen confirmed it. Brittany's was a picture of Zoey as well, actually, but they were from different occasions.

"Only one from Jimmy," Brittany replied absentmindedly, doing the same routine as Santana did a couple of seconds ago. Bringing her eyes back to Santana's face she added sort of awkwardly, "Besides the one from, you know, Riley."

Santana just nodded, not wanting to revisit the subject. "Jimmy actually called me on your phone after he reached you on mine," the brunette offered matter-of-factly. "Oh, and in interest of full disclosure, you should know that I went through your phone. Texts, received calls, notes, pictures, apps, you know, the works…" Santana added confidently with an impish smile, holding the blonde's stare but not visualizing a gasp like she had predicted she would.

Brittany nodded repeatedly, matching Santana's impish smile and not backing down from the stare competition. "It's cool." Brief pause. "Because I totally went through yours, too," she added with just as much confidence as the brown-eyed woman, who smiled wider in surprise.

"Well played, Pierce… Well played," Santana conceded lightly, not dropping the smile as one of her hands made its way to her hip. The banter was too good to let go and she awfully missed it, so Santana amended teasingly, "Your wife's punctuation is appalling, by the way. Make sure to let her know I said so."

"Yeah, well, your girlfriend's…" Brittany forced her brain trying to come up with a nice retort, "…_face_ is appalling," she finished lamely, clearly failing as she crossed her arms across her chest in veiled defeat.

"That's the best you could do?" Santana asked with amusement.

"In such short notice? Yeah," Brittany countered jokingly, letting a small smile slip.

Santana shook her head as she stated evenly, "We should go back or they'll send a searching party."

Both women started making their way back outside, leaving a lazy Poppy lying on the living room rug.

"By the way, 'Student Steve' – who I'm only assuming is one of your students at the studio – has a crush on you," Santana deadpanned in a blasé tone. "I could tell from his texts and from your calls history," she added as they walked side-by-side.

"He does _not_," Brittany protested with a gasp. "He's _fifteen_, Santana."

"Even more reason to worry, then. Jail bait for sure," Santana quipped, the corners of her mouth tugging up into a tiny smile. "I just thought I'd give you a heads-up. You were always bad at spotting people who had crushes on you."

"You're being ridiculous…" Brittany replied dismissively with a wave of hand. "I'm ignoring you now," she added with a shake of head, mimicking her ex's smile.

Moments later they passed the French doors and arrived back outside at the patio.

"There you are," Quinn announced as they resurfaced from the interior of the house. Santana reclaimed her seat at the table and Brittany remained standing.

"Okay, guys, I'm leaving," was Brittany's turn to announce with a rather fake smile, her eyes falling on Riley for some reason.

"Already?" Rachel piped in, voice whiny and Brittany just nodded her confirmation, shifting her gaze to the petite brunette.

"We're still on for tomorrow's lunch at my parents', right?" The dancer asked her friends, her tone taking an excited tone. She missed them.

"We so are. Mrs. P's cooking is too good to pass on," Quinn replied honestly while Santana got reacquainted with her wine glass and Riley watched on the conversation, not having anything to say.

"You two better bring your appetite. My Mom totally miss having you over, so I'm sure she'll cook enough food for an army," Brittany said through laughter, looking both women in the eye.

Quinn and Rachel used to stay at Annie and Rob's place when they visited Brittany and Zoey before Santana woke up. Brittany's house didn't have a guest room, or much spare room for that matter, so it worked better that way.

And then the dancer directed her eyes towards Santana and added playfully, "She always goes on and on about how San _stole_ her guests."

"It's true," Santana confirmed with several nods. "She told me that herself several times," she added matter-of-factly. And then the brown-eyed woman finished teasingly, "I don't know exactly what Annie misses most, though. Quinn's 40 minutes long showers or Dwarf's impromptu singing sessions in the middle of the day. It's very hard to choose, really."

Brittany and Riley chuckled while Quinn and Rachel protested with little strength.

"San, be nice," Brittany said over her friends' protests and the scene began to look too familiar. So, Brittany added in that spirit, looking at Santana, "Are you joining us?" Her hopeful tone could be heard by all and Riley looked expectantly from the blonde to Santana.

"I don't think so," Santana replied softly in a lower tone of voice. She wanted to, but there were too many factors to consider and she just did not want the work at that moment.

Riley breathed a subtle sigh of relief and Brittany nodded her understanding.

"I really should go," Brittany said after a beat, starting to walk away from the table slowly. "Bye," she added weakly, her eyes going from face to face on the table. Even to Riley's, painfully. "I see you two tomorrow," Brittany said to Quinn and Rachel as she walked even further.

"You're picking Zoey at Gracie's in the morning, right?" Santana called out in the last second.

"Yes, it'll give her more time to spend with her godmothers at my folks," Brittany relayed from the distance.

"Okay."

"Okay."

And with that Brittany made her way out through the same path she came in from. She didn't know exactly why but, as she sat behind the wheel of her silver Focus, her heart felt heavier. The dancer did not like the feeling. She did not like that feeling _at all_. She also wasn't keen on the fact that Santana had introduced Riley to their friends, _her_ friends. It seemed serious and Brittany avoided that word like the plague where Santana and the ginger were concerned. With that gloomy thought she started the car and drove off, shoving the _silly_ thought aside.

* * *

><p>That Saturday early evening – reunion day – Quinn stood at Santana's bedroom door in a silky robe. She had just gotten out of the shower and was ready to start getting ready for the big night. Santana lied on her bed with a laptop across her thighs and a Poppy by her feet. The dog did make an excellent foot warmer, especially for her usual freezing ones.<p>

Without taking her eyes from the screen, but catching her friend through her peripheral vision, Santana said in a blasé tone, "I think you're lost, Fabray. Your room is that way." And she pointed with her head to the right.

"Are you really not going?" Quinn asked evenly, entering further into the room.

"No," Santana answered in a clipped tone, eyes still on the laptop screen filled with inconsequential celebrity gossip. Quinn could really be annoying when she wanted to.

"Why?" The hazel-eyed woman enquired firmly, hands on her hips for effect.

Pulling her eyes up from the screen to glare at the petite blonde, Santana replied in a huff, "We've had this conversation before." Brief exasperated pause. "And I'm _not_ looking for a repeat."

"Well, I still don't get it," Quinn said honestly, nearing the brunette's bed and trying to catch her eye, which had made its way back to the screen. "Nobody from Glee is going to judge you, S."

"Like school was only made of sweet little gleeks," Santana shot back sarcastically, holding hazel eyes.

Quinn took a deep breath. Santana could be annoyingly stubborn most of the times. Taking a seat on the edge of her friend's bed, Quinn replied with conviction, "Listen… only losers avoid school reunions, ok? And we are _clearly_ not losers. We're successful, we're still pretty damn hot, we're funny and fierce and we didn't peak in high school. We… _You_ have to go, San. Can't you see?"

Santana, who had been paying attention to her friend's little speech with crossed arms and a raised eyebrow, could feel her resolve getting weaker. Let's face it, she _was_ pretty awesome. Even if, deep down, she happened to forget that fact every once in a while. _Despite_ being able to profess it countless times loud and clear, obviously.

"It will be kinda awkward…" Santana trailed on but with much less confidence. "With Britt and all…" she added nonchalantly.

Perceiving an opening in Santana's demeanour, Quinn powered through. "It won't be. I mean, I'm your friend and I'm not going to lie, it _is_ a little bit awkward every time you two are in the same room together." Quinn shot Santana a knowing smile and the brunette appreciated her candor. She hated bullshit after all. "_But_, it's better now, you won't be by yourself. Riley can be your date," the petite blonde said with excitement, placing one hand on Santana's shin and giving it a little squeeze to reinforce her point.

Santana appeared to be considering what Quinn had just said to her. Her look told the hazel-eyed woman that she was pondering pros and cons.

Feeling like it was the time to seal the deal, Quinn went on with a little smug smile, "Come on, who else will mock people with me?" Santana shot her a smug little smile back and it encouraged the blonde. "Please, let's be bitches together once more for old times' sake," Quinn pleaded playfully, making Santana chuckle and she followed after.

"Well, when you put it like that my interest spikes slightly, Q," Santana joked lightly, her chuckles dying down in her throat as Quinn's were.

Sensing that it was the time to weave the last and most important thread of her well-constructed web around Santana, Quinn asked with a smirk while patting a lazy Poppy, "Where else in Lima would you get to wear that gorgeous bandage designer dress you bought when we went shopping together in New York?"

The brunette's eyes sparkled at the mention of the indeed gorgeous mustard bandage dress she purchased in New York. It was beyond hot in its marvelous tightness. Quinn studied the brown-eyed woman's face and knew she had once again won.

Refraining from showing much enthusiasm Santana replied casually, head a bit raised as a sign of expected petulance, "Even if I were to _consider_ going to the reunion now, it would be too late to call Riley. She might even be working tonight. And like hell I'll show my face there alone..." Santana didn't even need to add, _when Brittany will be there with her wife_; for Quinn to get what she had meant.

Quinn flashed Santana that self-satisfied little smile the blonde used more often than her friends would have liked her to, and the brunette knew immediately something was up Quinn's sleeve. "What if I told you that Riley is probably getting ready as we speak and should be arriving here soon to be your date to this lovely event?"

Santana shook her head from side to side as she held her friend's lively eyes. "Then I would have to tell you that you are one sneaky little bitch, Fabray," the brunette stated playfully while closing the laptop on her lap, earning her a smack on the leg from a sitting Quinn.

"Well, takes one to know the other," Quinn retorted lightheartedly but a little smile betrayed her for-show annoyance. "Now go jump in the shower. Speaking of which, Rachel must be finishing hers by now. I should go start getting ready," the petite blonde added casually, getting up from the bed.

"How did you even get a hold of Riley?" Santana asked whilst getting up herself, looking at Quinn's retreating back.

Quinn looked back from Santana's bedroom's door and replied smugly, locking hazel eyes on brown ones, "You shouldn't leave your cell lying around. Zoey isn't the only one with cunning plans, you know?" And the blonde winked playfully to Santana, who approached her bedroom's bathroom, leaving the room and leaving the brunette to ponder what exactly she had meant about her daughter.

Thirty minutes later Quinn strode again through Santana's bedroom's door in a beautiful, black, vintage 1920's dress that was quintessential Quinn, and she looked quite pretty in it while at it. Going towards the bathroom door, which was opened, the blonde found a barefoot Santana already in her sexy dress applying make-up in front of the mirror.

"You're still doing your make-up?" Quinn asked with some exasperation, eyeing her friend and her many make-up items sprawled across the bathroom's counter.

"Perfection takes time," Santana countered as she worked on her smokey eyes. And then she tore her gaze away from her reflection in the mirror to take a gander at her friend. "Looking good, Quinnie," the brunette said playfully, but both knew she meant it. Santana went back to her work.

Seeing the straightening iron heating on top of the counter, Quinn offered evenly as she grabbed the device, "I'll go ahead and run this through the rest of your hair while you finish your make-up. Otherwise we won't be ready anytime soon." Santana had done some of her hair but when her arms got tired she decided to switch to make-up and return to hair later.

Santana wouldn't turn down the hand, her arms were tired. "Berry's ready?" The brunette asked, making conversation as she worked on her face.

"She's warming up her voice," Quinn replied matter-of-factly and her eyes met Santana's confused ones on the mirror as she worked the iron through dark locks. "Don't ask me why. I'm not sure either."

They both just smiled at the short brunette's antics.

"What time is Riley coming?"

"She must be here anytime now. I told Rach to get the doorbell."

After a silent moment, Santana took a deep breath and sighed. "Riley wants to move to New York," the brown-eyed woman relayed softly.

Catching Santana's eyes on the mirror again Quinn stilled her hands and asked, "What?" The blonde had been caught off guard.

"She wants to move to New York after she graduates. To find a more challenging nursing job," Santana continued a bit louder, averting her eyes from Quinn's for a second as she worked the eyeliner on her eye.

"And?" Quinn prompted seriously, going back to straightening her friend's hair.

"And she wants me to go with her. She has brought up the subject several times before and I've been rebuffing her offers but, I don't know…" Santana said pensively, dropping the eyeliner to grab her lipstick. "Maybe I should. Maybe it's time to face, to _really_ face and accept once and for all the fact that, you know, _she…_" they both knew who Santana was talking about "…won't come around. It's been almost a year now, Q," the brown-eyed woman added weakly, stopping to put on her red lipstick.

"I, I don't know what to say, S," Quinn replied just as weakly, finishing with the hair and putting the straightening iron back on the counter. "What do _you_ want?" The petite blonde asked softly as both women finally faced each other without the mirror as a proxy.

Santana chuckled dryly as a defense mechanism. However, she felt like she needed to answer, not only for her friend's sakes but for her own, "I want to keep moving forward. I _have_ to keep moving forward." She paused briefly and leaned against the bathroom counter. Santana knew that she had been moving _forward_ for the last few months, but she also knew that she wasn't moving _on_. There was a difference. A large, substantial difference. "Maybe this is for the best. I think space may help…" she trailed off ominously, looking Quinn in the eye and the blonde looked back with some veiled concern. Not only for the brunette… but also for a certain blonde friend of hers. She knew Santana really meant what she said.

"I can't say I wouldn't like to have you back in New York, but what about –" Quinn began but was interrupted by her friend.

"Zoey?" Santana interjected knowingly and both women wore a matching little smile. "That's the main reason why I've been holding back. But, I don't know, maybe…" She shook her head and looked down at her perfect red manicured nails. "I just don't know anymore," the brunette doctor finished lamely.

"Well, whatever you do decide you know we've got your back, right?" Quinn offered with utmost sincerity, which made their smiles grow wider. But in the back of her mind the hazel-eyed woman feared the repercussions.

"I know," Santana replied evenly, taking a deep breath to add, "So, which one: the black or the nude?" And the brown-eyed woman pointed to two pair of shoes by her right.

"Nude," Quinn said decidedly with one sharp nod. "It's got higher heels and God knows you'll need the extra height with Riley by your side," the blonde added playfully.

"I know, right?" Santana played along, going to the pumps and starting to slip them on. "What is up with me and tall women?" She added in quip and they laughed.

A short moment after the doorbell rang and they heard Rachel's high-pitched voice resonating through the house, "I got it."

* * *

><p>Santana, Quinn, Rachel and Riley arrived at McKinley High fashionably late. Santana assured them it would be lame to arrive at a <em>Class Reunion<em> early like some overly eager little creeps. They made their way to a reception area set up near the gymnasium where this woman sat at a table handing out name tags.

Looking up at the latest arrivals, the woman smiled widely and said enthusiastically, "Oh, My God! Santana Lopez and Quinn Fabray! You made it." The congenial woman in her early thirties waited for some recognition but there was none in the aforementioned women's faces. "It's me, Mandy Baker! We were in Cheerios together," she added eagerly, looking up at them.

Santana and Quinn exchanged a brief puzzled, clueless look.

"Right, right, Mandy…" Quinn said sort of awkwardly, flashing the blonde woman behind the table a yellow smile. "I remember you," she added for good measure.

While the woman looked for their name tags Santana glanced sideways at Quinn and whispered, "Who the hell is Mandy Baker?"

"Beats me," the blonde whispered back and they smiled a little smile at each other. And so did Riley, who stood beside Santana and was following the conversation.

"Here it goes… Santana Lopez," Mandy said cheerfully, handing the brunette her name tag. "And Quinn Fabray," she amended, looking at Quinn and turning her name tag over to the hazel-eyed woman. "Coach Sylvester will be so happy to see you two…"

"Yeah, right…" Santana mumbled under her breath to no one in particularly. She doubted Sue even knew what 'happy' was.

Rachel, who looked a little peeved by Quinn's side this whole time, piped in, "Hello! You seem to not have seen me…" She looked at the woman expectantly, waiting to be recognized. Seconds passed and it did not came, so Rachel huffed, "It's me. Rachel Berry. The _star_ of Glee Club!"

"Star?" Santana chimed in with indignation and received a mild glare from Quinn, who wanted nothing more than to appease her wife, and a chuckle from Riley.

"Sorry, I can't seem to place you," Mandy said softly, receiving a scowl from Rachel. And the diva rarely scowled. The former Cheerio looked for the name tag and handed it over to the theater woman with a less than apologetic look.

"Nobody values the performance arts," Rachel scolded petulantly in typical diva fashion, placing the name tag on her red dress.

Mandy's attention went back to Quinn and Santana, who looked amused by Rachel's behaviour even though Quinn held the petite brunette's hand reassuringly.

"To your back is the coat check. Feel free to drop your coats there. And welcome to your class reunion, ladies!" Mandy announced animatedly. "The Unholy Trinity is all here now," she added with a wide grin while they walked away to the coat check and Santana's heart skipped a beat knowing that Brittany had already arrived. She scolded herself inwardly for being such a sucker.

"What is the '_Unholy Trinity_'?" Riley asked with curiosity in her sparkly silver little dress, flashing her girlfriend a smirk as the four women checked their coats.

"Oh, nothing…" Santana downplayed lightly while taking off her black overcoat. "Just what they used to call Q, Britts and me."

"Yeah, because they used to pretend –" Rachel started to add matter-of-factly while handing her coat over to the coat check guy.

"Whoa, Man-Hands… We barely stepped foot into the school and you are already starting to share embarrassing stories. Give me at least some time to down some alcohol before that happens, alright?" Santana cut her off lightheartedly and they all shared a smile.

Coats checked, the women started to head towards the gymnasium where the event was being held. Passing by a trashcan on the way, Santana dumped her name tag without saying a word and Quinn did the same.

"What are you doing?" Rachel asked her friend and wife with a look of shock on her face.

"Santana Lopez doesn't do name tags," Santana shrugged and replied without skipping a beat.

"She talks about herself in the third person, though?" Quinn mocked with a smug grin plastered on her flawless made-up face. Santana just matched the grin and nodded playfully.

Rachel shot her wife an expectant look. She hadn't heard her answer yet. Rules were rules and they were meant to be followed. The theater woman found breaking them extremely aggravating and wrong.

"Quinn Fabray doesn't do name tags either," Quinn joked with a laugh and everyone but Rachel mimicked her as they entered the gym's double doors. The petite blonde pecked her wife's lips to ease the pout and it seemed to have worked because Rachel smiled lightly. Still not thoroughly pleased, but…

"Thanks for bringing me," Riley said rather softly to the woman by her side, catching Santana's eyes as they held hands. A coy smile on her cherry lips.

The brunette doctor squeezed Riley's hand in reassurance. "I'm glad you're here," Santana replied honestly, albeit maybe not for the purest of reasons.

The music was blasting from the stage where a DJ did his thing. Quinn and Rachel talked amongst themselves as the four women took in the room. Lots of banners hung on the walls and the room was severely decorated, which made Santana think that Mandy out there shouldn't have a life if she was the one responsible for organizing that whole shindig.

It didn't take long for the brunette's eyes to fall on a certain blue-eyed blonde across the room. Brittany talked to a small group of people that Santana didn't care enough to run her eyes through their faces to see if she recognized anyone. Her sole attention was on the dancer. On the navy blue little number she was wearing with mind-boggling poise and distinction. On her perfect golden hair that cascaded flawlessly over her shoulders. It took a minute but Brittany noticed she was looking and their gazes met. A megawatt smile took the blonde's features by storm and Santana couldn't help but flash her a wide smile as well. But just after their eyes met Santana pulled hers away, feeling weak and spineless.

Quinn, Rachel and Riley had been talking while she was caught in her Brittany induced trance. Thankfully, Tina from their old years of Glee Club came along to talk to them and Santana was spared from admitting she wasn't paying attention to what they were saying.

After an embarrassing moment of Rachel taking out a CD of her music from a big handbag she was carrying to give to Tina, they started having a chit-chat to catch up. Quinn, Santana and Rachel had been surprised when Tina said that the man beside her, Tim Cho, was her fiancé and that she and Mike had been divorced since late years of college. They remained friends but Mike had always wanted to tour and eventually the long periods of distance brought them apart. Tina relayed that, in fact, Mike was at a tour with some famous pop/hip-hop act at that moment. He wouldn't be attending. On another hand, Tina was just as surprised to find out that _Quinn and Rachel_ were actually married and that _Santana and Brittany_ had divorced a while ago. Santana felt uncomfortable by all, but they didn't share the pitiful details of her health scare and all. So, the damage hadn't been as bad as she thought. Tina, at least, didn't make sorrowful remarks about the whole situation. They also found out she was a free-lancer writer in Boston, writing for variety and fashion magazines. Riley was introduced in a smooth transition of topics and the redhead towered over the petite brunette as they shook hands.

Soon after they parted ways with Tina and continued on with their mingling, Brittany made her way to them with a smile on her face and a Jenna by her side. Santana grimaced at the sight of the short green-eyed blonde in an insipid beige matronly dress. _How fitting_; Santana thought with bite, clutching her clutch bag a bit tighter.

"You came," Brittany sort of announced cheerfully when she reached the other four ladies, looking directly at Santana and reflexively offering her the same pleased megawatt smile as before. "I'm glad," the dancer added like it wasn't already written all over her face. She wanted to just hug Santana. But did not.

"Yeah, well, Quinn here played on my vanity," Santana replied dismissively and yet cheekily, pointing to the blonde in question with her head.

"It's not like it was a hard job or anything. You've got plenty of that," Quinn quipped with a smirk, which was matched by Brittany while Santana shot Quinn a faux reproachful glance.

Brittany's smirk fell momentarily, though, when her eyes caught sight of Santana's and Riley's clasped hands. Thankfully the blue-eyed woman recovered quickly – practice makes perfect – and nobody really noticed.

Recovering from her slip, Brittany tried to set her mind back to pleasant as she stated breezily, "We were just catching up with Kurt and Mercedes."

"Oh, they really came?" Rachel asked with untamed enthusiasm, only refraining from clapping her hands with joy because Quinn was holding one of them. "I can't wait to give them one of my CDs," she added, clutching her handbag that was slung on her shoulder to unconsciously confirm they were still in there.

"How are they?" Quinn asked evenly, turning the conversation back to its tracks after her wife's sidetracked remark.

"Great!" Brittany replied with a grin. "Mercedes is married to a nice-looking guy who is here with her and she works as a voice coach in LA. Kurt lives there as well. They never lost touch, isn't that nice?" The blonde asked rhetorically, broadening her grin and making Santana find her adorable and so sweet again despite her will. "Just like the four of us," the dancer remarked wistfully and the four of them shared a smile filled with complicity that made Riley and Jenna feel like the ultimate outsiders.

"Kurt works as a costumer for some soap opera I forgot the name right now. He's really enthusiastic about it, too," Brittany relayed with excitement and then her smile dropped a bit, "Kurt and Blaine aren't together anymore, though. That's sad." Her eyes went to Santana's but the brunette averted them and the blue-eyed woman felt deflated.

"What happened?" Rachel asked all torn up about it, which worked to aggravate Santana even more for some reason but the doctor managed to hold her tongue instead of snapping with venom.

"They didn't survive college apart, apparently. Kurt said last he heard Blaine was going to live and work in France," Brittany informed sadly, her eyes on Rachel. "He doesn't seem sad, though. Kurt told us he loves to be single and mingle," she added, a little smile returning to her features as Jenna gave her wife's hand a little squeeze to pep her spirits a bit more.

"We were talking to Tina. She and Mike aren't together anymore either," Quinn said matter-of-factly and Santana couldn't understand why these people insisted on talking about that.

"That's sad, too. I'm a sad panda now," Brittany replied in low spirits, unable to hold on to her newly reacquired happiness.

Riley still found the way the blonde spoke odd; so, she looked sideways at Santana for some clue but the brunette seemed distracted.

"There's no need to be sad. Mike's on tour with same unnamed celebrity, Tina is engaged to somebody else, Kurt is happy being single and I bet so is Blaine over there in frigging France. Shit happens, life moves on… It's simple, really," Santana stated a bit louder than her usual tone in her best confident voice, avoiding everyone's eyes altogether. For some reason she felt like she had to defend them but in reality she knew quite well who she was really defending. Well, not exclusively _who_, but _what_: her own pride. No one would pity them. No one would pity _her_, that's for sure.

Everyone was a bit taken aback by her bold statement and all eyes fell on Santana. It wasn't delivered harshly but it certainly carried a good amount of weight and Santana cursed herself inwardly for letting her temper get the best out of her yet again as the tension took hold of all of them.

Being the eager beaver to defuse it, Rachel said in a chipper tone, "You know, since neither Mike nor Blaine are showing up I could give you one of my CDs, Britt."

Before Brittany could even respond, Santana – who had been looking for an outing with paramount diligence – found it when she spotted Puck by the drinks table. "I see Puck _and_ drinks. I should say 'hi' and grab me some," the brunette said evenly, throwing everyone a half-smile before starting walking away with Riley, not even bothering to wait for a response.

Brittany looked over her shoulder at the retreating couple's backs and only returned her face forward when she felt Jenna's hand gently grabbing hers.

Santana and Riley reached Puck shortly after. The man instantly flashed the pair his usual douchey smirk.

"I'm surprised to see you here," Santana stated as a form of greeting.

"I could say the same," Puck shot back without skipping a beat, looking at the brunette in the eye. "Hey there, Riley," he added, shifting his gaze to the ginger.

"Puck…" Riley trailed on with a smile. "I would say long time no see but you practically live at the club," she added matter-of-factly and Puck just widened his grin with no dispute.

Santana picked up where they left off. "Quinn managed to drag me here," the brown-eyed woman offered, filling two cups with punch from the table and handing one to Riley.

"Finn did the same to me," Puck informed nonchalantly, leaning his side against the table.

"I didn't know you two kept in touch."

"We don't." Short pause. "Didn't seem to stop him, though."

Santana nodded her understanding. People really did tend to stick their noses where other people didn't want them to. For the better, sometimes... Not that Santana would ever admit that out loud.

"What is Finnocence up to these days?" Santana asked casually, making conversation before taking a sip of her punch while Riley people-watched. "Jesus, this punch is awful!" The brunette chided, grimacing after.

"Apparently he is an assistant football coach at Toledo University," Puck related in a blasé tone, taking a flask from his blazer's inside pocket and spiking Santana's and then Riley's punch. "Brought his _fiancé_ along, too. Jessica something," he added, taking a swig from his flask before pocketing it again.

"Good for him," Santana replied evenly, more for the sake of saying something than anything else. And then she took another sip of her spiked punch. "Much better," she added with a lopsided smile and Puck playfully bowed down a bit.

Santana's eyes were roaming around the people inside that gymnasium when they were caught by a flash of blonde on the dance floor. Brittany was dancing. Not only _dancing_. The blue-eyed goddess was moving to a nondescript hip-hop-with-a-dash-of-pop tune, which the lyrics are much better going ignored. That brand of music was the dancer's niche. She danced well to anything, really, but _that_… that was her body's masterpiece. Santana felt her cheeks growing hot as she watched her ex with hawk eyes. Brittany had always made everyone dancing around her look like fucking amateurs, and Santana had always loved that fact about her. That night it wasn't any different, especially for poor Gemma, who barely swayed from side to side trying to keep up.

Riley obliviously broke off Santana's daze. "Come on, San… Let's dance, too," the emerald-eyed redhead said with a charming smile. Her flawless wavy hair bouncing a bit with her movements.

Still feeling hot and bothered, Santana unconsciously shook her head to shake out the thoughts as she replied with forced playfulness, "Not now. I'm still not drunk enough." And she took another sip of her punch for effect.

"Ah… don't be a party-pooper," Riley whined playfully, tugging on the brunette's arm.

"I really don't feel like dancing now," Santana confirmed with a soft tone and a tight-lipped smile, her eyes stealing another quick glance at the dancing blonde.

"I'll take you for a spin," Puck offered casually, outstretching his hand to Riley.

The ginger looked at Santana like asking for permission, which made the brunette chuckle.

"Don't hold back on my account," Santana said to her girlfriend, and it surprised even herself how detached she was. Well, except that it didn't. Surprise her, that is.

Riley's smile widened as she placed her empty punch cup on the drinks table, and she took Puck's hand, stopping on the way only to lay a sweet kiss on Santana's abnormally hot cheek.

The brunette doctor then stood by herself near the table of drinks. She took another big gulp of her punch as her eyes went from Brittany to Riley and back, and back again. Shaking her head from side to side at the fucked-up nature of the situation she found herself in, she sighed and forced her eyes to roam elsewhere. Santana caught Quinn's knowing gaze across the room as the blonde and her wife chatted away with Sam 'Trouty-Mouth' Evans and his supposed significant other. Santana flashed the blonde a tight-lipped smile and made a 'cheers' motion with her drink. Quinn smiled sympathetically back and went back to her conversation.

* * *

><p>The night was going on better than Santana had expected, which was a definite plus of being a pessimist. No one had made 'witty' remarks about her and Brittany, not to her face anyhow. And she would settle for that. She was sure that most people didn't even know about her coma and everything that transpired after. And that was the way she would like it to be. Santana Lopez was no candidate for pity.<p>

The brunette spotted Brittany, Quinn and Rachel talking by the amuse-bouche table and made her way there.

"He is doing really great," Quinn was heard saying as Santana approached them.

"Who is doing great?" Santana asked casually, butting in the conversation as she looked over the appetizers on the table trying to decide which one to pick. Brittany instantly smiled at the sight of her.

"Guy," Quinn answered matter-of-factly, taking a sip of her punch while Santana's hand went to the chosen appetizer.

"I wouldn't take that one," Brittany softly informed Santana, and the brunette shot her a confused look, which made the blue-eyed woman elaborate, "It has mango in it." Santana immediately dropped the appetizer, flashing her ex an appreciative little smile. She hated when people put fruit into salty things.

"Which guy?" Santana asked as she directed her gaze to Quinn, picking the previous subject back up while going for another appetizer.

"Not _a_ guy. _Guy Hobbes_, our newest addition to the dance instructors at the studio. He's no Brittany but we are working at our capacity now. We needed an extra pair of feet," Quinn stated evenly with a smile. "Britt was the one who recommended him and I was thanking her. He's doing great."

"He's a very accomplished dancer," Rachel piped in enthusiastically, never one to not praise a talented performer. Because she secretly expected people to do the same for her.

"A bit full of himself but…" Quinn amended, trailing off with a sly smile.

Santana's gaze went to Brittany and the blonde understood the silent question. "We used to run in the same circles back in the day when I was with Marcus's dance company. He was never really a friend, but we exchanged the odd polite 'hello' and he is a great dancer. So, when Quinn called and asked, his name came to mind," Brittany said, holding brown eyes.

"Do I know him?" Santana asked, intrigued.

"I don't know. Probably. We must have attended to the same party once," Brittany replied absentmindedly, taking a sip of her punch.

Santana shrugged it off as someone wheeled their way to them: Artie, with a short brunette woman by his side.

"Artie, oh My God!" Brittany greeted the man on the chair with enthusiasm, bending down to hug him. "I didn't see you around, I thought you weren't going to show up," she added with a wide smile on her face.

Quinn and Rachel greeted the man as well, and so did Santana. A little less enthusiastic, though. Artie still got on her nerves and irked her somehow. Images of her toppling the guy's wheelchair still crossed her mind for some reason, just like back in high school.

Artie began to say congenially, "We are a bit late. Marjorie, that's my wife here," he pointed with his head to the brunette by his side with a smile, "got a bit held up with our youngest."

The ladies politely greeted Marjorie.

"You have a kid?" Rachel asked, making conversation.

"Two, actually. Two boys. A seven-year old and a two-year old," Artie said with pride, taking his wallet from his backside pocket to show some pictures. "Little Artie and Levi," he added, handing the wallet to Brittany.

"They are beautiful, Artie," Brittany said with a megawatt smile after inspecting the pictures, passing the item to Quinn, who looked over it with Rachel by her side.

"Adorable," Quinn said with a genuine tight-lipped smile. Kids were still somewhat of a sore subject to her.

"Really adorable, Artie," Rachel reinforced her wife's remark, passing the wallet to Santana, who took it with some reluctance.

"Thanks, they are a handful but we love them. Right, honey?" Artie said with excitement.

"More than life itself," Marjorie backed her husband up with the widest of grins on her face. She was homely but nice.

All eyes went to Santana as she looked over the photos. Sensing them, the brunette looked up and said honestly, "They're lovely. Congratulations." Yes, Zoey had really turned her into a softie when kids were concerned.

"Thank you," Artie said in earnest as he took the wallet back from the fiery brunette. Santana never seemed like a kid person, so the compliment meant a lot whether it was or not genuine.

Santana and Brittany exchanged a loaded look.

"What about you, ladies? Have you got kids of your own?" Artie asked congenially, keeping up with the conversation. "I know you two got married." He looked from Brittany to Santana and back. "My parents moved to Dayton, where we live now, when we had our first baby but when they still lived here your Mom told my Mom you were tying the knot in New York."

"Yeah, San and I have a little girl: Zoey. She's four now," Brittany stated softly with the same pride shining in her eyes as Artie's a moment ago, her blue eyes traveled over to Santana briefly before settling on the wheelchair man again.

"Four and almost a half, you can't forget that," Santana amended playfully in the same demeanour as her ex, making everyone chuckle. Santana knew this conversation was taking a turn for potential awkward territory but she couldn't help the warm fuzzy feelings the Zoey subject ignited within her; so, the brunette let it be.

"Yeah, that is surely a crime in Zoey's book," Brittany confirmed with a broad smile while Santana fished her cell phone out of her clutch. If Wheels could do pictures, so could she.

"We're her godmothers," Quinn deadpanned with a sweet smile gracing her pretty features, grabbing Rachel's hand affectionately as Santana handed Artie her phone so he could see Zoey in her lock screen picture.

"You two are, uh, together, too?" Artie asked with surprise, looking at Quinn and Rachel with Santana's cell in hand.

"Yep, Quinn and I are married," Rachel stated with a goofy smile on, bumping her shoulder playfully against the blonde's while Artie recovered from the initial shock.

"She is absolutely beautiful," Artie proclaimed softly, tearing his gaze from the picture to look at Brittany and then Santana. "I gotta say, though. I never pictured you as the kid type, Santana," the man added half-playfully, half-seriously, voicing his earlier thought.

Before Santana could shoot back a witty quip, Brittany said softly and sincerely, "She is the best Mama Zoey could possibly have." And she looked at Santana. Their eyes met and they shared a moment.

It ended fast, though, since Santana felt this urge to clarify the situation before it blew up on their faces. "Anyhow, Britt and I –" Santana began to correct the false impression that they were still married but Puck and Riley joined them and interrupted her mid-sentence.

"Artie, long time no see, bro!" Puck greeted his old Glee Club pal, placing his hand on the other man's shoulder.

"Puck! Great to see you again... And with no mohawk! Look at that," Artie said with amusement, looking up at the tall man. And then his eyes went towards Riley and he added playfully, "Your girl, huh? She's very pretty, man. You're a lucky one, just like me." Artie looked over at Marjorie with a smile.

"Actually, that's Santana's girl, Riley," Puck replied with his usual smirk in place as the ginger took a place by Santana's side. "She was only interested in my secret booze," he added jokingly, showing them his flask.

"Aren't you two…" Artie trailed off the inferred question with confusion and furrowed eyebrows as he looked from Santana to Brittany, who looked awkwardly embarrassed.

"We're divorced, actually," Santana cleared up the air, her eyes meeting icy blue ones for the shortest period of time. That phrase always seemed to have that effect on the dancer. But, again, that wasn't on Santana. Either way, the brunette just couldn't hold those baby-blues and she was pretty sure Brittany didn't want her to at that moment. _And where the hell is Lena, anyway?_ Santana thought with irritation. _Leave her wife hanging is not cool at a moment like that. And why the hell do I continue to worry myself over Brittany?_ "Riley is my girlfriend," she added evenly, shooing the thoughts away while the emerald-eyed woman smiled widely beside her.

"Oh… I had no idea. I'm sorry," Artie stated awkwardly, feeling like someone who just stuffed his foot in his mouth.

"I'm married," Brittany felt like saying after Santana's hurtful – to her, anyways – statement and it was Santana's brown eyes' turn to look icy. "She must be here soon. She went to the bathroom," she added nonchalantly, avoiding dark chocolate orbs.

"And what do you do in Dayton, Artie?" Quinn asked conversely, trying to lighten up the tension.

"I'm a high school Math teacher," Artie replied politely, glad for the change in subject.

"How nice," Rachel chimed in, coming to her wife's aid.

"How awful... Teenagers are the worst," Puck ironically gave his two cents.

Artie ignored his remark and they chatted a bit more about what the ladies were doing for a living, which was the perfect excuse for Rachel to hand Artie and Puck her mixed CDs.

After some more of idle talking the man in the wheelchair said, "Ok, guys. I see Sam over there. I should go and say 'hey'." And with that everyone bid their goodbyes and Artie and his wife went their way.

Brittany spotted Jenna coming from the double doors and said, "I'll go meet Jenna." The dancer wanted to desperately avoid the weirdness that was surrounding everyone at that moment. Especially the bad vibe she was getting from Santana.

"Could you lend me your flask, Puck?" Santana asked the man. She wanted, she needed a drink. Badly.

Puck handed over the coveted item and Santana excused herself to grab a cup of punch with a squeeze on Riley's hand. Quinn followed her immediately and caught the brunette, who took long strides to the drinks table, just as she arrived at her nearby destiny.

Santana was putting some punch in a cup with Brittany and Jenna on her peripheral eyesight when she saw Quinn standing by her side. Spiking the drink with Puck's booze Santana playfully asked her friend, "Would it be too bad if I spiked the virgin punch?" And her brown eyes went from the alcoholic punch bowl to the non-alcoholic one. "You know, considering Gemma has been drinking it constantly?"

"Well, considering she is a recovering alcoholic I'd say: yes. It'd be pretty bad," Quinn replied with a lopsided sly smile, fully aware that her friend wouldn't do that really. A long moment of silence. "Are you okay?" Quinn asked with concern, locking hazel eyes on brown ones.

"You know what? I am," Santana replied evenly and frankly, yet again surprising even herself as she flashed Quinn a tight-lipped genuine smile. The brunette felt this odd tidal wave feeling of settled things – and perhaps even closure – wash over her, and it felt nice. It felt lighter. Something just clicked in her head. Maybe to just give in was the answer. She always did that. She was always one to bash her head against the wall, but Santana didn't want to become a Werther. Santana Lopez had no vocation for weak, sad and pathetic. She wouldn't keep recalling the memory of past sorrow. She would bear her present lot with equanimity instead.

She and Brittany, they had Zoey. She figured that was the trigger, the eye-opener that disregarded the fact that they were already just so and fully aware of it. They will _always_ have Zoey. And that was way better than to have Paris, which they also would always have. Not that it mattered, really. Santana felt serenity at that moment, or maybe it was just a sense of dull peace, but she would take it. Yes, she would. _Just give in…_

* * *

><p>The hours kept rolling by and Santana's serenity had kicked in with full force. She danced with Riley, with Puck, even with Karofsky, who she gladly bumped into. After everything they shared back in the day the brown-eyed woman wouldn't say she didn't grow fond of the guy. Dave was out, and proud, and happy with his husband Joe. The news made Santana happy by proxy. Everything wasn't shit, after all. During their dance and chat Santana found out that they were both firefighters down at San Francisco. They exchanged emails and promised to try and stay in touch. She was really fond of Dave in a weird way.<p>

Santana sat at a table with Quinn and Rachel and they were talking while resting their tired feet. The joy of high heels… Apparently from out of nowhere Brittany appeared in front of them.

"Can I have this dance?" Brittany asked Santana with a dazzling smile playing on her pink lips.

"What?" Santana asked with illogical confusion, her eyes going from Brittany to their amused friends' faces and back.

"Dance with me," the blue-eyed woman clarified with amusement of her own, outstretching her hand to her ex. When Santana didn't promptly take it, she added matter-of-factly and yet softly, "You promised. Remember?" Brief pause as she held Santana's gaze. "On our senior year prom…"

_Right_; Santana recalled the memory. They had gone together and at night, as they shared their last dance, she had promised to dance with Brittany many years later when they attended to their class reunion. Of course the promise was made and meant to be a subtle and smooth pledge of a future together. The last thing on Santana's mind that night was that they would end up like that. However, despite this different capacity they found themselves in, the brunette was feeling serene for a change. And, together or not, Santana always kept her promises. Especially the ones made to a Brittany S. Pierce. Truth be told, she would gladly oblige to that one.

Santana nodded with a bittersweet smile and silently took Brittany's warm hand, passing Quinn her clutch to watch over. The dancer smiled her trademark broad smile and, while directing her pearly whites briefly at their friends, she whisked Santana away to the dance floor by the hand.

The DJ was playing an upbeat song. Some nifty remix of a CSS tune that Brittany had danced to before. They both started doing their thing and Santana couldn't help but notice again how the blonde owned the dance floor. She wouldn't lie: she could hold her own on the dance department almost just as well. The key word being '_almost_', naturally. They kept their distance… but the eye contact was never once severed. The good thing about upbeat songs is that you can have your personal space if you want to. As Brittany's eyes raked over Santana's perfect body she tried her hardest not to grind against her ex. She was off-the-charts amazing at grinding and Santana has always been her favourite grinding partner. _Jesus Christ_; Brittany chastised herself inwardly as her mind went straight into the gutter.

Changing her train of thought, but not entirely, Brittany said a bit loud so Santana could hear over the music, "You look…" the dancer took a minute to look for a fitting word as she kept scanning Santana's figure in that tight mustard bandage dress, "…stunning." And she flashed the brunette an adorable dopey smile. She was so had.

Santana couldn't fight the blush that took over her cheeks by storm. "Thanks," she replied politely, displaying an almost shy smile as they moved to the beat. And then returning the eyeing of her ex from head to toe Santana added matter-of-factly, "You look better, though." She knew she was being a bit too flirtatious but she did not care.

Brittany shook her head in silent protest but a megawatt smile took her lips hostage, and it was her turn to blush. Santana's opinion always had mattered most.

"That dress is beautiful. I've never seen it before," Santana continued lightly, making conversation as she took in the dark navy blue garment that gave Brittany's eyes a crazy-beautiful blue quality. "They make your eyes just… Wow…" she went on sincerely, filters clearly not working properly anymore. Who could blame her, really?

Brittany's eyes almost searched the floor to hide how embarrassingly giddy the remark made her, but those brown orbs were too fine to let go. "Thanks, it's new. I bought it for the reunion," the blonde answered coyly, dancing a bit closer to Santana. But not daring to touch her. "Yours is gorgeous, too. New, right?" She asked knowingly. They knew each other's wardrobe too well not to recognize any piece of clothing.

Santana nodded her confirmation and before she could say anything else the song ended and they stopped dancing along with everyone else on the dance floor. A slow song started right next. _Of course_, Santana thought with ironic amusement while a wry smile took over her lips. The brunette took a step at the direction of the table she was previously sitting at, but was stopped by a firm grip on her wrist. The touch sent a powerful and undeniable electric jolt not only through her body but through Brittany's as well.

_You've made me into someone…_

Santana's head snapped back and she met Brittany's seemingly pleading gaze full-on. Her eyes darted down to the hand connected to her wrist, not as a reproachful reaction, but Brittany took it like that and she let go of it reluctantly. Their eyes met again.

_Who should not hold a loaded gun…_

"Just one more," Brittany uttered tenderly after she regained her voice. She even mustered up a nervous little smile as she once again outstretched her hand to Santana, who took it in silence after a millisecond of consideration. Their hands still fitted perfectly well together, both women noticed.

_And now you sit upon my chest,  
><em>_Knock out my wind, knock out my best…_

Brittany's other hand found Santana's waist like second nature, and the brunette's found its old familiar spot on her ex's shoulder. Brittany was more than used to lead on the dance floor and Santana never really minded following her. Santana's body stood too far away from Brittany's, though, and the dancer noticed it.

Smiling wide, Brittany remarked playfully as they started swaying to the music, "Is this a fifth grade dance? You can come closer, you know? I won't bite."

"Yeah, well, I fell for that one from your lips before," Santana quipped suggestively, getting a hold of her wits again before flashing Brittany a smug grin, which was instantly matched by the blonde. Santana complied with the request right after, though. Their bodies touched gently, delicately, and there wasn't even room for a pin to drop between them as they swayed. Feeling each other's body's warmth again… It felt nice. Really nice.

_And so long to no disasters and mornings too,  
><em>_And so long to ever afters, so long,  
><em>_To you…_

"They still got our Cheerios' trophies and pictures in that glass case down the hallway. I passed by it when I went to the bathroom earlier," Brittany said wistfully with a straight face while they danced, looking Santana in the eye as their cheeks were no more than two inches apart. "We were smiling so wide in that picture after we won…" she added softly with a half-smile tugging on her lips, which Santana mimicked absentmindedly. "It seems like it was both 100 years ago…" She paused and really stared into Santana's eyes, like she was peering into the woman's soul. Just the way that always granted her a protest from the brunette. But not that time. Santana held the stare and her silence. And so Brittany went on seriously, "…_and_ yesterday. You know what I mean?"

"I do," Santana replied after a beat, flashing Brittany a rare sweet smile. "I really do, B," she added in earnest. Complete and utter. The smile had Brittany reflexively bringing their hands that were joined together this whole time to rest on her collarbone. And the movement and position was too familiar. Bitter-sweetly so, considering how many times they've repeated the same movement in the past.

_I am soft for only you,  
><em>_Impale me with your tongue, it's true…_

Comfortable silence took over them as they just… danced. Eyes locked and feet moving in perfect synchrony. For at least that moment there didn't seem to be no Jenna, no Riley, no coma, no shit, no twisted life in their minds... There were just them. The two of them moving simply to the simple notes of a simple song.

_And slices of me piled sky high,  
><em>_The same old me to the naked eye…_

Santana broke the silence and, in a way, the bubble when she asked in a low tone, "We were good together, right?" Brittany looked at her with a puzzled expression, so the brown-eyed woman clarified softly, "We were a good team you and I, weren't we?"

_But I can't find myself tonight…_

Brittany was taken aback by the uncertainty in Santana's voice – how could she doubt that? – and the look in her eye. The blonde saw this weird flash of… serenity, resignation even, in those dark chocolate eyes she was so fond of, and also… _something_ else. Something she couldn't quite read and the notion scared her. Brittany could literally count in one hand the times she failed to read Santana throughout these many years they knew each other.

So, the blue-eyed woman offered promptly, her tone firm but gentle as her grip on Santana's hand tangled in hers over her collarbone intensified in an eager way to reassure the brunette, "Of course, San." Brittany poured all she had in the look she was sending Santana in order to convey how truly she meant what she had just said. "The best," she added candidly after a short beat and Santana smiled at her.

_And so long to no disasters and mornings too,  
><em>_And so long to ever afters, so long…_

Santana's smile, which should have comforted Brittany because of its sweet nature and look, did just the opposite. Something strange about it, about that whole conversation sent the blonde this clear message of… _finality_. Overwhelming, heavy, tangible finality that caused her heart to beat erratically and wind up sinking to the pit of her stomach.

_To you…_

Brittany kept studying Santana's serene face for a trace of some clue but just as she opened up her mouth to question, or say anything else, she felt a hand tapping her shoulder. She turned around to see a smiling Riley looking at them.

_And so long to no disasters and mornings too…_

"May I cut in?" Riley asked softly, her smile firmly in place as the other two women stopped dancing. She had been watching them dance since she returned from the bathroom and felt this need to intervene for some reason since Brittany's wife seemed rooted to her spot at Santana's friends' table.

Brittany looked like a deer caught in the headlights for a while as she looked from the taller-than-her ginger to Santana and back, still a bit lost in the many feelings and thoughts that were currently running through her head. Taking in the dancer's silence Santana detached herself from the familiar hold and took a step back, which jolted Brittany from her trance. She instantly missed the contact.

The decision apparently had been made already, so Brittany offered halfheartedly as Santana flashed her the same oddly sweet smile from before, "Sure…"

_And so long to ever afters, so long…_

"Come on, babe," Riley said evenly, taking Santana's hand as the two of them started to dance. The term of endearment cut at Brittany's heart. She never called Jenna that. Not even once. And she made sure Jenna knew she didn't like being called that the first time it passed through the other blonde's lips. That had always been hers and Santana's thing and it stung to hear it from the redhead's mouth directed to Santana. _Her_ Santana. Well, her _once-upon-a-time_ Santana.

_To you…_

Brittany walked back to the table where Quinn and Rachel sat with an unreadable blank expression on her face while Santana and Riley danced. Jenna had joined them after her drink run. _Non-alcoholic_ drink run, that is.

The blue-eyed dancer felt the need to explain as she took Jenna's silence when sitting beside her at the table, "She owed me a dance." She put it simply. It had been completely innocent after all.

Jenna nodded once, not looking angry or pleased while Quinn subtly surveyed her friend's face under Rachel's attentive eyes. The brunette knew when her wife was up to something, especially after the chat they had while Santana and Brittany danced.

After some mindless talk, Quinn stood up and said solemnly, "I need to go to the bathroom. Make me company?" Hazel eyes fell on an oblivious Brittany.

"Okay," the blue-eyed woman replied, rising to her feet while Rachel sent Quinn a subtle message through her brief pointed look.

"We'll be right back," Quinn said with her forced congenial smile, ignoring Rachel's silent plea.

A couple of minutes later Quinn and Brittany entered the bathroom and the dancer looked on in confusion as her friend checked every stall to see if they were really alone.

"Didn't you have to go?" Brittany finally asked with confusion in her tone and furrowed brows when Quinn didn't enter the last bathroom stall to pee.

Quinn walked up to her friend who stood in front of the bathroom's sinks and replied, "Not really. I just wanted to talk to you in private."

Brittany continued with the look of confusion. "Oookay," the dancer drawled, looking her friend in the eye expectantly.

"Rachel thinks I should stay out of this but I just, I can't," Quinn said in a strained tone of voice, leaning against the sinks' counter. "I can't just stand by and watch you get blindsided," the petite blonde added rapidly, her friend's full attention on her by then.

"Slow down, Q," Brittany said calmly but remained confused as she took a step closer to Quinn. "What do you mean?" The blue-eyed woman added evenly in question.

Quinn took a deep breath. She was getting ahead of herself. "I know you think that Santana and Riley aren't serious –" Quinn began to state calmly, because Brittany had told her that plenty of times over the phone before, but was interrupted by the woman in question.

"They aren't," Brittany interjected with strong-willed conviction, crossing her arms over her chest unconsciously.

Quinn shot Brittany a pointed look for the interruption, and continued with determination, "Either way, that doesn't matter." Quinn paused briefly and changed her voice to a sweet tone. "Because _Santana_ is. We talked and," she hesitated a bit, "and she's dead serious, Britt." Quinn hoped that that would suffice for Brittany to get the picture. Santana was moving forward and maybe Brittany wouldn't be able to catch her again later, even if she wanted to.

The dancer was taken aback. That piece of information coming from Quinn paired with what had just transpired moments ago in the gym enhanced her dreadful worries. Letting her crossed arms fall to her sides Brittany asked weakly, even though she already anticipated the answer or lack thereof, "What did she say?"

"You know I can't tell you that. It's not my place and it's unfair to her," Quinn replied matter-of-factly, holding those piercing blue eyes. The problem of being friends with both parties caught in a relationship tangle was that: you had to cover your bases and be careful not to play carrier pigeon.

Quinn stopped leaning against the bathroom counter and closed the small gap between her and Brittany. Placing a comforting hand on her friend's upper arm she added soothingly in warn, "But I know Santana, and _you_ know Santana, and we _both_ know that when she gets something in her head…" The woman trailed off and Brittany let her friend's words sink in for a while. After a beat, Quinn finished lightly, letting her hand drop from the taller blonde's arm, "Anyhow, I just thought you should know."

The hazel-eyed woman's _light_ tone just sounded plain ominous to Brittany. All her fears and insecurities came out to play and wreak havoc in her mind. For the first time ever she actually started to believe that she could lose Santana. Brittany wasn't stupid. She knew she _already_ didn't have the brunette… but she was thinking of another type of loss. One _far_ worse. Because in a special, sacred capacity she and Santana still had each other.

Collecting herself midst the intense turmoil within her, Brittany asked Quinn in the most broken of tones, "And what am I supposed to do with that?"

Her friend looked so utterly… _lost_ that it nearly broke Quinn's heart. The shorter blonde hugged Brittany and replied tenderly, unable to deny some sort of guidance as she rubbed soothing circles on her friend's back, "I'm not telling you should do anything, B." Quinn pulled back from the hug a short while later, locking hazel eyes on pale blue ones and debating whether she should go on. Eventually, Quinn did. "Look, from where I'm sitting I can see that _you're_ hurting, _San_ is hurting, I don't really know Jenna all that well but from the looks of it _she's_ hurting too, and I guess it's only a matter of time until _Riley_ joins you. How worse _can_ it get, sweetie?"

Brittany sensed a tinge of accusation between Quinn's lines. There wasn't really, but that is what the subconscious does when a teeny tiny part of you maybe feels guilty. The taller blonde looked Quinn straight in the eyes and replied with more authority, "That's not on me, Quinn. I never wanted any of us to get hurt. I mean, I didn't do anything _precisely_ to avoid _that_." And it was the absolute truth to the dancer and Quinn knew that.

"I know, I know, Britt…" Quinn said softly, placing her hand again on her friend's upper arm for reassurance and comfort. Brittany had also told her more than once how she didn't want to hurt anybody, and Quinn believed her friend believed she wasn't. "And I'm not accusing you of anything. I love you, and I love San, and that's the only reason why I brought this up. I really thought you should know where you stood," Quinn added in earnest, receiving a softer look from Brittany.

"Thanks, Q," Brittany replied sweetly, feeling lighter and yet still quite heavy. "I'm glad you told me. You're a good friend," she added, placing her own hand over Quinn's on her upper arm.

They shared a moment of comfortable silence and both women let their hands drop to their sides. "We should go back before people start to suspect," Quinn said as voice of reason.

Brittany and Quinn left the bathroom and throughout the whole walk back to the gymnasium the dancer felt sick to her stomach. She felt lost, worried, threatened, scared and overall shaken. _How can this be my life?_ Brittany pondered dejectedly. As she and Quinn entered through the back doors of the gym Brittany caught a flash of mustard dress and red hair walking out through the frontal double doors. At that very moment Brittany's need to talk to Santana never felt more imperative.

"I'll just grab some punch and meet you back at the table," Brittany told an unsuspecting Quinn, who just nodded with a smile on her face as they went in different directions.

Brittany stopped at the drinks table to keep her pretense by grabbing a cup of punch, but then she changed routes and walked out through the same double doors as Santana. Taking a sip of punch to calm her nerves, Brittany looked up and down the hallway trying to spot the brunette she was desperate to talk to. No such luck. Looking up and down the hallway again trying to decide on a way to go Brittany went with down. The bathroom was that way and it was her best guess regarding where Santana could have headed to.

She slowly walked down the familiar and deserted hallway, nursing her drink. Before even turning around the corner Brittany spotted Santana standing by the bathroom door. She stopped walking and just watched on without being seen. The sight brought a wide smile to her lips. The sight of Santana always did. However, before the blue-eyed woman could come up to the love of her life and just bear her soul, _Riley_ walked out of the bathroom and greeted the love of _Brittany's _life with a kiss on the lips. Right then the sight before Brittany's eyes actually only served to knock the wide smile off of her face and beat the air out of her lungs. It disconcerted her so much that she let the cup of punch fall to the floor with a thud.

The noise broke Santana and Riley apart and the brunette turned her head around, just in time to catch Brittany's deeply hurt expression. Surprised brown eyes met crystal-clear blue ones for mere seconds that felt much more like minutes, and before one word could be said Brittany turned around sharply and started walking away in a fast pace.

Santana stood rooted to her spot in front of Riley whilst Brittany stormed away. _What just happened?_ Santana quickly thought to herself. Rapidly, but gradually, the brown-eyed doctor went from surprised, to guilty, to livid, and finally to angry. Brittany, her currently _re-married ex-wife_, had no right whatsoever to make _her_ feel guilty about kissing her girlfriend. With that exact progression of feelings coursing through her body, Santana felt the overwhelming desire to follow Brittany and demand some satisfaction.

Quickly before starting her power-walk to follow the escaping blonde, Santana trailed off apologetically, looking straight into emerald-green eyes, "Sorry, Riley but I just have to…"

Riley didn't even have the chance to reply. Santana's back was already moving away from her while she tried to figure out what exactly had happened a few seconds ago.

Santana turned the corner fast and immediately spotted Brittany walking back up the hallway rapidly. Anger boiled over her as the absurdity of the whole situation kept sinking in.

"Brittany, wait up!" Santana called out while walking on the dancer's heels, a significant distance between them.

The blue-eyed woman didn't even look back. She just kept walking. Brittany knew she had absolutely no right to act or feel the way she was feeling, but rational thoughts had left the building a long time ago.

Santana mumbled a few Spanish expletives as she started to jog to catch Brittany, who had just passed the gym's double doors and continued going forward. The blonde had really long legs and Santana was in extreme high heels, if she didn't break into a jog she would never catch her. And she _really _needed to give Brittany a piece of her mind.

"Brittany, what the… I said wait!" Santana called out again, the distance between them way smaller by then. _And why the fuck am I feeling like I just have been caught cheating?_ Santana thought reproachfully. _Why am I even following Brittany?_

Brittany still didn't stop and turned a left on the hallway instead. She was acting crazy, Brittany knew it, but she couldn't help it. Santana turned a left right after her and finally managed to catch up with the dancer.

Santana grabbed Brittany's wrist from behind, making the blonde come to an abrupt halt and involuntarily turn around to face her. Stormy brown eyes locked on glistening blue ones, obvious products of unshed tears.

Brittany's welled up eyes disarmed Santana's anger a bit. Emphasis on: _a bit_.

Letting go gently of Brittany's wrist, Santana asked with furrowed brows, "What the fuck, Brittany?"

There was no response, though. They just stood there by the lockers – of course there had to be lockers around – extremely close to each other, breathing heavily and caught up in an intense staring contest. Santana's ridiculously high heels had her almost at the same height as Brittany, and the brunette liked that feeling of equality, especially during a veiled battle.

Taking in Brittany's silence after a minute or so, Santana ran a hand through her dark hair with exasperation and continued with her self-righteous rant, her voice louder than usual, "What the hell was that? I mean, who do you think you are? You have _no_ right to storm out all mad like that or to make _me_ feel guilty for…"

Santana carried on with her rant but at that point Brittany couldn't even listen to what she was saying anymore. Her heart was beating so fast that the blonde could only hear those rhythmic thuds in her ears. She knew Santana was right. Everything the brunette was saying made perfect sense. Brittany knew she was being irrational and unfair, but she did not care. She loved Santana. So much so that it actually hurt. She couldn't stand that whole situation one moment longer. Brittany would _not_ lose Santana, not like that.

In the middle of Santana's rant she saw Brittany's eyes travel to her lips and she faltered a bit as she stumbled over some words. Her indignation kept her going, though. But next thing Santana knew Brittany was licking her perfect lips, leaning in rapidly and crashing said lips against her own in a hard kiss while their eyes closed instantly with the impact. The kiss was needy, a bit sloppy and desperate but, God damn it, it felt nice! It felt natural and right.

Regaining her senses after getting lost in Brittany and in the kiss for some seconds, Santana pulled back abruptly while pushing the dancer's shoulders away from her, successfully ending the desperate kiss. She searched for Brittany's gaze and, after the dancer opened up her eyes again, Santana studied those oh-so-familiar blue orbs with furrowed eyebrows and she came to the conclusion that they were intensely darkened with raw passion and desire. The sight unwillingly turned her on.

Brittany came down from her high and started to feel the sting of rejection after being pushed away by Santana. She held the brunette's inquisitive gaze, trying to convey how she felt and was surprised when she felt Santana's hands on her shoulders again.

Santana shoved Brittany forcefully but gently against the lockers and, with a smirk on her lips and their bodies flushed against one another's, she started kissing the blonde again. Hard.

**TBC**

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><p><strong>Rejoice, readers! And don't forget to prepare your little hearts for the next phase of this story.<br>Sorry for the cliffhanger... It was needed. The reunion, and everything that transpires there, is the story's climax (ooops... did I let a pun slip?), so it's rather long. And, trust me, that was the best place to leave things off for now. Don't worry, next chapter will pick up right where we left off.  
>Review and let me know ;)<strong>

_By the way, I feel like I should say this because several people have asked me questions regarding the story that are all answered by it. So, to avoid repeating: this story is heavily based on the fact that people don't change. Not about things that are so very fundamental to who they are. Circumstances change, things change, but not people. Not really. Do they learn? Sure. Probably through personal mistakes, but that is beside the point. People are who they are and that is that. That is what the title's "Stances" stand for. Yeah, that was it. Hope it sheds some light :)_


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Glee _nor its original characters (if I did it would probably be called _The Brittany and Santana Show_, and all the other characters would only be there to help advance their plot if they were even there at all).

**A/N****: **Shoot the work, not the worker. Hate the holidays, not the holidays partaker. I'm not dead, despite apparent popular belief *lol* Stuff just piled up but I want you all to know that I'll never drop this story, I finish what I start. Anyways, I did get to catch up on Season 3 of _Glee _around Christmas, and when I say _Glee_ I mean _Santana & Brittany_. There wasn't much to catch up on, unsurprisingly so. It took less than one hour to get the episodes _and_ watch their tiny bits. Now I'm a bit curious, and anyone who watches the whole show could help me with this: do other couples actually get to share meaningful, long scenes? With, you know, at least _some_ substantial dialogue? Because if they do things are definitely not fair for the girls. I know Glee is not famous for character development, and I mean no offense here, but that was just... Oh, another tiny question: are they actually adding _more_ characters to the show? Because, I may be a relapse/selective viewer, but I've never gotten a glimpse of the irksome Irish kid before. So, could they possibly be doing that? They already have so little time for the heaps of characters they already do have, aside from the various musical acts. That would just be a puzzling move.  
>Babbling aside, I hope the absence only made the heart grow fonder :)<p>

***This one goes out to: **choyu**, because "British tone"? How so? You got me intrigued... Do tell, dear reader. And to **Ily 18**, because I'd like to welcome you as a representive of all the numerous new readers. You guys never cease to amaze me with your love for this little story of mine. And as for Quinn/Rachel, I can't say I die of love for them either, although I've been enjoying writing them. Funny fact: the only reason they are even together here is because, at the time I started writing this story, I only read one other fiction and it had Quinn paired up with Rachel. Since I don't watch Glee I actually believed they had at least a thing going on the show *lol*

_Wow, the record number of reviews the last chapter got was... amazing! Thanks for the love, guys. I wish I could single out every review because they are all getting better by the chapter. Anyhow, I won't keep you longer. Enjoy the new huge chapter! I was very self-indulgent on this one, I won't lie, *and* I got to use one of my favourite songs ever ;) Oh, and my climax pun will finally materialize itself *lol*_

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><p><strong>Mischances, Stances and Stolen Glances<br>**_||Chapter Seventeen||_

_Brittany came down from her high and started to feel the sting of rejection after being pushed away by Santana. She held the brunette's inquisitive gaze, trying to convey how she felt and was surprised when she felt Santana's hands on her shoulders again. _

_Santana shoved Brittany forcefully but gently against the lockers and, with a smirk on her lips and their bodies flushed against one another's, she started kissing the blonde again. Hard._

…

Brittany worked her hand to the back of Santana's neck, bringing their faces impossibly closer together, deepening the kiss she had longed for so long. Their lips moved against one another's feverishly, full of need and want, and yet a bit more gracefully than when it first started. Not that that entailed much. Either way Santana tasted like… home. And the blonde was beyond glad to be back after such a long time away.

Santana's hands were frantically travelling everywhere: from Brittany's jaw, to her neck, to her chest, to her arms, to her toned stomach, to the bare skin of her thighs… They simply did not know where to focus as her lips did their familiar thing against Brittany's while she had the tall blonde pinned hard against the lockers. At that moment Santana inwardly congratulated herself on her choice of ridiculously high heels, because she was of the same height as Brittany and she liked the feeling.

Brittany's tongue didn't even request entrance into Santana's mouth. It just slipped right in like it owned the place, which made Santana smile into the kiss, but not for long, though. She wanted to taste Brittany again, and so their tongues battled for dominance as they got reacquainted with the dance they hadn't performed in a long while. And, boy, it felt nice! The kiss was wet and it popped and smacked every once in a while. Brittany's other hand cupped Santana's breast and the brunette emitted a moan that prompted Brittany's turn to smile into the kiss.

There was no room for thought. There was only room to feel and at that moment they both were finding it hard to breathe. But there was no way they would break off the mind-blowing kiss for something so unimportant like breathing. The art of breathing through one's nose whilst kissing required work. Work that they have done more than diligently throughout their many years together, and it was time to put that coveted knowledge to use. And they surely did. Even though it was hard as hell as their breathing got shortened by the strenuous activity while adrenaline pumped through their veins. It felt like singing while running for Santana, or like singing while dancing for Brittany: the secret was all in the breathing management.

Santana instinctively grabbed Brittany's ass, their lips still connected in the long passionate kiss, and the blue-eyed woman moaned in return. As hands roamed and tongues dueled, suddenly only kissing and groping didn't feel enough. Their heated bodies ached for more and Santana's knee easily found Brittany's spot, putting more than enough pressure against it as she roughly pulled the blonde's bottom lip with her teeth. Perhaps a part of her wanted to punish Brittany a bit, and the dancer wasn't complaining at all judging by the embarrassingly loud and aroused sound that came from her lips at the combination of well-practiced moves.

Brittany's knee started to do the same to Santana as the blonde untangled her lips from between the brunette's teeth and brought them to the woman's tan neck, sucking hard and nibbling and doing their thing that always managed to drive Santana crazy. The brunette knew _that_ Brittany. It was territorial Brittany and even though she hadn't had the pleasure to experience her a lot in the past, she was glad to meet her again as her mouth hang open with pleasure at the woman's expert ministrations on her neck.

As the women carried on against the lockers – back with the frantic kissing – they were both reaching their climax embarrassingly quick with every movement of their knees. It had been a long, long time. Santana began pressing Brittany against the locker with more force, searching for any leverage to operate her moves and Brittany, on the other hand, offered some counteractive push, trying to bring their bodies even closer together to maximize the friction despite the fact that through the thing material of both their dresses she could clearly feel Santana's racy heartbeats against her chest, which could burst at any second for all she knew taking in consideration her own speedy beats.

They intensely came together and Santana felt Brittany's quivering body against hers as she held the blonde in a sort of hug that was most likely a pretense to keep her body from falling down due to wobbly legs. Brittany's hot breath, product of heavy panting, on her neck wasn't doing many favours for the brunette either.

Santana and Brittany stood there for a while, catching their breaths. The side of the blonde's forehead resting lazily on Santana's right shoulder, and the brunette's forehead resting comfortably against Brittany's sweat-coated temple. After their high – and God, what a high! – that was when reality began to sink in… for both of them.

With red swollen lips and still in a small haze Santana pulled her head back a bit and chanced a quick study of Brittany's face, especially those mesmerizing blue eyes. Suffice to say, she did _not _like what she saw.

"Are you kidding me?" Santana asked evenly, slightly furrowing her eyebrows as she took a step backwards from Brittany's hold of her waist.

"What?" Brittany asked with confusion, mimicking Santana's eyebrows' shape whilst subconsciously missing the loss of contact.

"_What?_ I can see the hesitation and regret all over your face, Brittany. That's what!" Santana replied in a louder tone of voice, shaking her head from side to side in disbelief.

_Is my face really showing that?_ Brittany pondered briefly as she ran a hand through blonde hair. She _had_ been shoved back into reality a few seconds ago, which brought her thoughts to Jenna, to her _wife_, and the fact that what she had just done with Santana was wrong. So, yes, maybe she looked a bit like that and she shouldn't be surprised, really, because Santana always could read her like an open book. However, unlike Santana _apparently_ was thinking, considering her expression and tone of voice, Brittany did _not _regret doing what she just did with the love of her life. She regretted doing that _before_ ending things properly with Jenna.

Santana wasn't taking Brittany's pause well, and the dancer could tell she was about to turn around and storm off. So, the blue-eyed woman ceased her leaning against the locker, shook her head repeatedly and countered haphazardly while taking one step closer to Santana, "I am not."

The brunette scoffed, taking another step backwards. Being close to Brittany had already proved quite quickly to be a bad idea that day, and she always did her best to learn from her mistakes.

"And now you're lying…" Santana trailed on with massive exasperation, placing both hands on her hips in a huff.

The dancer tried yet again to take a step forward and grab a hold of Santana, but the brunette dodged her, which made Brittany sigh and try to regroup. "I'm not, I mean, it's not what you think," Brittany shot back immediately, having a hard time to both process her many thoughts and speak up coherently.

When right and wrong were concerned Brittany always took the matter as a black and white deal. Things were either wrong or right, there was no middle ground. Ever since she was little, ever since she could remember, Brittany found it easier to disregard shades of grey. She always got lost in them. They were too out of control, too complicated, too confusing for her little head and so she denied the disconcerting grey area. Ergo, cheating on your wife was clearly wrong. However powerful and definitive the attenuating circumstance may be.

As the blue-eyed woman tried to wrap her mind around everything, tried to quell the loud battle between her heart and her head that rendered her momentarily disconcerted, Santana had started to really lose her patience. It wasn't like the brunette's mind wasn't running a mile a minute as well.

"Unbelievable…" Santana drawled out with a bitter and dry smile that cut deep through Brittany, who took a long stride towards the brown-eyed woman and managed to capture a tan hand in hers. But before the dancer could utter a single word amidst her stupor, Santana shook her hand free of Brittany and added sharply without dropping the blue gaze, "Goodbye, Brittany." And with that she turned around briskly.

"Santana, _wait_," Brittany called out with a hint of desperation in her tone, taking a couple of steps after the brunette. "I can explain…"

Without turning around to face Brittany, Santana shot back with conviction and utter determination, "I'm done waiting, Brittany." And then she mumbled for her ears only, "I've waited too damn long."

Brittany still tried to dejectedly call out again, "Santana…" But the other woman was already walking with purpose away from her. And Brittany thought it was probably better to let her go, let Santana fume for a bit. She knew Santana and knew that trying to catch her now and corner her into talking right then would only cause the woman to lash out. Besides, she wanted to do things properly. Brittany wanted to show Santana she really meant something; she really meant _everything_ when she kissed her. Meaning: Brittany would gently end things with Jenna as soon as possible and _then_ go after Santana. Words were really pretty, but actions? Actions were the real deal.

With those thoughts in mind, Brittany took a few steps back and rested her forehead against the coolness of a locker with eyes closed to settle down. Her heart was beating fast and, for once in a long time, her future prospects brought a little smile to her lips... She would get back together with Santana. Brittany could only imagine how over the moon Zoey would get, how her little pretty face would just light up when they told her. _Real happiness… Feels good. Really good._ But she still had to confront Jenna. And just like that the thought put a damp in her good mood.

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><p>It didn't take long for Santana to arrive back at the table her friends were sitting at. She had taken very long strides all the way through, and the sound of her heels against the gym's floor was particularly louder due to some serious heaviness in her steps. Yes, Santana was mad. If that wasn't indication enough of how mad she was, the scowl on her face and the flush on her cheeks definitely were. When it came to the origins of her flush, though, where Santana's madness began and where her encounter with Brittany at the lockers ended not even Einstein could accurately precise.<p>

Riley apparently had joined Santana's friends at their table, and the doctor took a seat next to the redhead with more than apparent huffiness. Quinn and Rachel were animatedly yapping away amongst themselves.

Turning her body on the chair to face Santana, Riley studied her girlfriend's face expectantly. The brown-eyed woman clearly looked sour and simply ignored the ginger's look.

"What happened?" Riley finally asked in a low tone after waiting too long for Santana to volunteer the information by her own free will. Still the other woman remained silent, albeit holding emerald-green eyes. "With Brittany, I mean. What happened with Brittany?" Riley added in the same tone, elaborating even though both knew it wasn't really needed. The question didn't hold any jealousy or accusation, just honest curiosity. And perhaps some anxiety, too.

Sighing a long sigh, Santana replied evenly, "Nothing happened." She lied. And it wasn't like it was the first time, really. Riley never could tell the difference anyway and, besides, it was a well-intentioned lie. It wasn't like what happened minutes ago would happen again, anyhow. "We just talked," Santana added promptly, running a hand through her long dark hair to smoothen it. She had fixed her appearance as she made her walk-of-shame back, but the present talk made her self-conscious.

"You look a bit, uh…" Riley chanced meekly, looking for the right word to describe Santana without antagonizing her, "…upset."

"I'm not," Santana countered defensively and with some edge to it. She didn't mean to sound harsh because none of her foul disposition had to do with poor Riley, but everything was piling up on the brunette and she had never been any good dealing with one single feeling. Let alone a multitude of them all together.

Taking in Riley's slight frown, Santana added much more softly, "I'm sorry... There's just nothing to talk about, okay?" And she mustered up a really forced tiny smile, which Riley gracefully took and mimicked.

It was not right for her to blow up on the redhead, especially when she was mad – _really_ mad – at _Brittany_ and not Riley. Yet again, the whole situation was so fucked up. But she had told Riley. Santana had warned the emerald-eyed woman several times that she was damaged goods, that she had lots, lots of baggage, that she wasn't looking for anything serious and that she probably never would. It wasn't like she lied and led the other woman on. Riley decided to take her on anyhow, so she supposed the redhead would have to deal with that whole mess then. Before Santana could dwell further in her _many_ ill thoughts towards her ex-wife, though, Quinn interrupted her, breaking away from her private conversation with Rachel.

"S, have you run into Nicole Hewitt yet?" Quinn asked with the hugest of grins plastered on her face, turning her focus to Santana.

Nicole was the head cheerleader before them. Someone they both severely envied – and secretly despised – before the heinous girl graduated and opened up the coveted spot for one of them to take.

"I saw her a few minutes ago and I looked around for you so we could mock her together, but you were nowhere to be found…" the petite blonde rambled on animatedly before concluding her thoughts, "Anyhow, she is as fat as a cow." And Quinn happily chuckled. Rachel, who was following the conversation, would have protested against the mean remark but Nicole used to give her a really hard time on hallways – like, a _scary truly-vicious_ hard time – so she let it slide.

Santana merely gave her a half-assed nod in acknowledgment. Not even a devilish smirk was thrown into the mix.

"Oook, that was _not_ the exact reaction I was expecting," Quinn said with less enthusiasm, dropping her grin a bit. She took a few seconds to study her friend's face and something was definitely off. Her enthusiasm prevented her from noticing before, but Santana wore this huge scowl on her face and everything about her demeanour told the blonde her friend was in a bad mood. And not regular Santana bad mood at that. "Did I miss something?" Quinn added with genuine concern and curiosity, leaning her body closer to the edge of the table on reflex.

"Nothing," Santana shot back sharply, sternly locking brown eyes on hazel ones to convey her disinterest in talking about this.

Quinn, Rachel and Riley exchanged confused glances amongst each other as Santana huffed on her seat.

Clearly not getting the message, Quinn pressed on comically, "Really, Santana, what crawled up your ass?" And she flashed the brunette a smile, which was totally _not_ returned.

"Why everyone keeps asking me that?" Santana rhetorically asked in a clipped tone. She was already in a terrible mood and everybody kept pressuring her for answers she did not have or did not want to give. _Christ!_ So, Santana added in the same manner, speaking profusely with her hands, "_Nothing _happened, ok? Can we just drop this, please?" The 'please' sounded more like a profanity than anything, really; and the question sounded exactly like a demand.

Quinn, Rachel and Riley exchanged odd looks yet again. Santana's sourness was evident but no one knew exactly why. Quinn subtly looked sideways at her wife and suddenly things started to add up in her head, in _their_ head, actually. Taking in consideration the talk Quinn had had with Brittany in the bathroom, which the petite blonde quickly relayed to Rachel right after, it didn't take much for them to add up that something had transpired between their two friends. Something not-so-good… to put it mildly.

As half-understanding dawned on Quinn and Rachel, Santana made use of the silence that took over the table to drown in self-reproach and, especially, in Brittany-reproach. _I mean, she is unbelievable…_ Santana mused inwardly. _And not in that good way!_ Santana quickly amended. How could Brittany do that to her? How could she just play, toy with her feelings that way? She didn't understand. At all. Santana swallowed hard and kept letting the bitter wheels turn in her head. _Brittany_ kissed her, not the other way around. And she felt the dancer enjoying herself… She felt several times Brittany smiling against her lips and neck… It just didn't add up. _What was Brittany thinking? And what was she thinking? Letting herself fall under the blonde's spell like that and actually letting herself believe that maybe things were about to change. That maybe she could have her life back. What an idiot…_ Santana thought, unconsciously shaking her head at her pitiful self.

Before she could continue to wallow and make sense of everything that had happened so quickly but moments ago, Santana caught the sight of Brittany making her way to freakin' Jenna across the gymnasium as some couples danced to the slow songs that were playing one after another as the reunion neared its end. The sight made her stomach clench and churn and she got even madder at the blonde if possible. Her cold, ferocious brown eyes bore holes in the blue-eyed woman's back at distance and the even scarier scowl that took over her face's features brought the other women's attention to what the brunette was looking at, and there was no doubt _something_ had happened between her and Brittany. Not that anyone dared to ask; especially Riley, who feared the answer the most.

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><p>Brittany made her way towards Jenna in slow steps, trying her hardest to calm her breathing and to stead her erratic heartbeats. She was almost reaching the shorter blonde and it was proving to be a difficult task to accomplish. All she could think about was Santana, their little rendezvous, and the confrontational conversation she would have to have with Jenna sooner than later.<p>

"Hi," Brittany managed to say as she reached the green-eyed woman. The dancer couldn't muster up a smile, though. Too many things were running through her mind to manage that much.

"Hey," Jenna replied with a tight-lip smile, holding her cell phone in hand. "Where were you? I was looking for ya," she added without skipping a beat. Her face was calm and collected to Brittany's gladness. Running her eyes over Brittany's appearance – especially her hair – Jenna couldn't help but amend with slightly narrowed eyes, "You're looking kinda disheveled and, uh, weird, honey… Something wrong?"

Running a hand through her long blonde hair, Brittany stated while cursing herself inwardly for not straightening her appearance before coming back to the gym, "No, uh, nothing's wrong. It must be from all the dancing." She shook her head repeatedly from side to side for emphasis. "I was at the bathroom," the blue-eyed woman added immediately with a forced half-smile. Obviously – not to Jenna, though – it was a lie. And it wasn't like it was the first time, really. Jenna never could tell the difference anyway and, besides, it was a well-intentioned lie. The reunion was no place to have such an important talk.

Buying the lie like a keen customer, Jenna carried on with ease, "I got a call from Billy."

They both knew what that meant. Billy was one of the two people Jenna sponsored at AA.

"Relapse?" Brittany asked knowingly, oozing sympathy through her beautiful blue eyes. Jenna merely nodded, matching the look on her wife's face with a tiny sad smile playing on her lips.

"He just called. He's at the bar near the gas station just outside of town," Jenna relayed the information calmly. The man did have many lapses of judgement. She was used to it by then. "I'm sorry but I have to go and pick him up. At least he refrained from driving this time …" The petite blonde added dejectedly.

Brittany nodded her understanding. "Of course," the dancer stated candidly. "The reunion is almost over anyhow." And then she felt eyes on her. If Brittany were to be honest she felt them soon after entering the gym, but right at that moment they felt heavier. _Way_ heavier. She couldn't help chancing a glance towards the table she knew said eyes were deriving from and, even though both women were far apart, Brittany always could make Santana's scowl from 10.000 miles away. Not only _make_, Brittany could actually _feel_ Santana's loaded energy coming her way. And it wasn't nice. At all.

Jenna caught the subtle glance and slightly shook her head with dull resignation, but refrained from remarking anything.

Breaking her wife's mesmerizing trance, Jenna said evenly, "Alright. I'll go then. I have to take the car, though. Can you catch a ride with one of your friends?"

"Sure. Don't worry," Brittany replied, flashing a small smile for good measure.

"Ok. See you back home," Jenna said softly, matching the smile whilst briefly rubbing her hand up and down Brittany's upper arm before starting to walk away from the distraught blue-eyed woman towards the exit.

Brittany took a moment to collect herself before heading towards her friends' table. She knew the situation wouldn't be pretty but, knowing that everything would be resolved once she talked to Jenna and then went to Santana for another talk, brought her some peace of mind that she hadn't felt in a long, _long_ time. Taking a deep breath and turning to the desired destination the dancer started walking with purposeful, calculated steps. As Brittany walked she could see that there other people standing around the table: Puck, Kurt and Sam. Brittany didn't know whether she was happy that there were more buffers around or apprehensive that there were more people to witness a possible outburst. You never really knew when Snix would decide to make an appearance.

Making her way through the last couples who slow-danced at the dance floor, Brittany reached the table in no time and she caught the tail of their conversation.

"It will be fun," Kurt said in his rather girly tone of voice.

"Yeah, totally," Sam chimed in with enthusiasm, arm around a woman. "It will be like a little Glee reunion of sorts," he added, smiling widely with his huge mouth.

People caught up to the dancer's presence and acknowledged her with head nods and smiles. Except for Santana, whose scowl turned ten folds as she averted cold eyes from freakin' blue ones. Yes, if Brittany had any doubt that the woman was mad that was enough indication that she truly was. Even madder than the blue-eyed woman had previously anticipated, actually. The sight hurt her. Most deeply. Because she knew it had been her doing.

"I already said we are in," Quinn calmly spoke for her and Rachel. The use of the pronoun and the intimacy that it carried caused Santana to involuntarily roll her eyes. Emotions galore were clearly making the brunette go haywire.

"S-Lo?" Puck prompted with a smug little grin, immediately receiving a real death glare from the doctor.

Santana had been the only one fighting the get together previously to Brittany's arrival.

Before the brown-eyed woman had the chance to colourfully retort, Kurt piped in while nearing the blonde dancer.

"You're onboard, right, Britt?" He asked with a smile and a glint in his eyes, the focus being shifted from a pissed Santana to the blonde.

"Onboard with what?" Brittany asked with confusion, shifting her eyes from Kurt's to each and every person around and at the table. She couldn't help but notice Santana still would not make eye contact with her, which was a pity because Brittany was dying to send her an apologetic and loving look that could somehow convey her feelings and ideally the notion that she would make everything right very soon. _Ideally_ being the operative word, of course. She was pretty sure no look could ever accomplish _that_ much. No matter how hard one might wish and try. The thought caused Brittany to sigh as her friend answered her.

"We were thinking the night is still too young and we are _really_ enjoying this re-connection. So, we came up with this plan to have a mini Glee reunion at Puck's bar after this bash ends, which appears to be soon," Kurt informed as a matter of fact. "You're up for it?" He added hopefully, being met by Brittany's eyes again.

"Sure," Brittany replied without missing a beat and with a ghost of a smile on her face, the idea of reuniting with her Glee friends did make her feel momentarily happier. "I'll need a ride, though," she added quickly, receiving inquisitive eyes from Quinn, Rachel and – yes – Santana as well. So, the dancer felt the need to clarify, "Jenna had an emergency… One of the people she sponsors had a relapse," Brittany amended softly and couldn't help but notice that her brunette ex's scowl returned from a brief, almost unperceptive, falling. The reason behind it intrigued and yet escaped the blue-eyed woman.

"I'll take you," Kurt promptly offered with a congenial smile. "We have a lot to catch up, little Miss," he added with enthusiasm.

"Santana?" Sam gently coaxed again in a less antagonizing way than Puck, which wasn't a difficult feat to accomplish.

The brown-eyed doctor directed her sharp glance to Puck instead. "Call me that again and my knee will make sure you never procreate again," Santana stated in her best menacing voice, adding a pointed finger to the bar owner for good measure. After an expecting silence she added evenly, "I'm in."

Santana Lopez was _definitely_ becoming a dull girl, always turning down opportunities to party and live large. Well, that was the end of it. She would not let _Brittany_ put a damper on her. Ever again. Besides, she could use a few stiff drinks instead of those washed down punches they offered at the reunion. To the ladies' displeasure Puck's flask had only gone so far. So…

The brown-eyed woman's acceptance of the invitation brought a smile to her girlfriend's lips. Riley was growing more suspicious with each passing minute. A fun outing could only do them good. _Right? Right._

"Great!" Sam exclaimed with animation. "I'll round the rest of us and then we can leave," he added casually, starting to walk away with his girlfriend by his side.

While Kurt talked to Brittany about something or other, the distracted dancer took the opportunity to steal yet another glance at Santana, who talked to Riley with little animation and Brittany could tell just by her eyes and stiff demeanour that Santana was really, _really_ mad. Her chest constricted in that awful way one more time. Maybe she should try to catch the brunette alone and just tell her everything, that she would end things with Jenna. It devastated Brittany the fact that Santana thought ill of her somehow, even if it was due to a slight misunderstanding. Her ex's opinion of her meant more to the blue-eyed woman than she could ever say with mere words. _No_. She should stick to her plan however hard it may be. Actions first, words after. It was the best way to go. _Concreteness_; she thought to herself before giving Kurt her full attention again.

If Quinn and Rachel had any doubts that something transpired between their former married friends they got confirmation during their tense interaction at that table but moments ago. The mood was heavy and everyone with the tiniest bit of perception could sense the bad vibe radiating from Santana towards one clear main direction: Brittany. Not that all the other people around couldn't get a taste of their own. Santana had always been that _generous_.

_What the hell happened?_ Was the question that kept coming back to Quinn and Rachel as they shared subtle sideway looks of mutually comprehended concern and curiosity while sitting at that table. They had to get Brittany alone eventually. Of their two best friends the blonde was definitely the most likely to spill the beans. And Santana was looking scarier by the second.

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><p>Everyone from Glee club that made it to the reunion also made it to Charlie's. Turned out the promise of real liquor was quite enticing to all parties, or so Santana figured. Because there was <em>no<em> way people would be there solely for an extent of some pathetic get-reacquainted with old peers shindig; the brunette sourly mused. That was exactly her frame of mind at that miserable instant. Yes, Santana was still very, very mad. And she had no problem whatsoever with showing that to anyone who chanced a chat or merely a glance her way.

Some of the bar's square wooden tables had been pushed together creating one big single table where everyone proceeded to take a seat, talk and enjoy their night. Everyone except for Santana and Brittany, obviously. The brunette sat there looking vexed and the blonde despondent, facing each other on different sides of the table – but not really making eye contact, courtesy of the stubborn brown-eyed woman.

"Ok, now that everyone is settled I'll start bringing in the booze," Puck who stood by the big table announced loudly to be heard over the already loud chatter. All eyes went to him. "I still got lots of your lady wine in the back Santana. Should I bring some over? I know how you broads love it," the bar owner added playfully, shifting his eyes from Santana to Quinn and Rachel, who rolled their eyes collectively at the _funny_ man.

Santana shot back immediately in her authoritative tone, "Don't bring them on my account. I'm in the mood for something strong today." Her sharp eyes briefly flickered Brittany's way, which caused the blue-eyed woman to subtly flinch. "Scotch, maybe," she amended evenly and then finished with confidence and edge, "Neat."

"A woman after my own heart," Puck quipped with a typical smug grin on his face and Santana didn't even bother to take his response in consideration. She simply turned back to Riley who sat by her right side since she felt emerald-green eyes on her. She felt crystal-blue as well, but she wouldn't take _that_ into consideration either.

From the corner of her eye Santana saw Quinn and Rachel whispering to each other and she figured it was about her as well. Yes, she was _that_ self-centered, but her friends did try to corner her for answers whenever Riley was out of ear range on their way there. Either way, she did not want to deal with them either. In fact she just wanted to drink, and drink and drink. Not to the point of intoxication, surely. The river of shit that would come out of her mouth would be embarrassing, not to mention the river of tears she would most likely shed. No, she would drink a lot. But she would not get drunk. Santana knew she had a pretty high tolerance for alcohol. She could manage the task for certain. She just wanted to forget. She just wanted to feel nothing. To feel numb. That was her goal for the rest of the night. _Thanks a lot, Brittany…_

"Finn, Sam, give me a hand in the back, will ya?" Puck shouted to the guys who sat by their ladies at the table. "And Artie, you can start filling some pitchers of beer behind the bar. Everything you'll need is behind there," the buff man added as the guys started to move to comply to his requests, while the rest chatted away with the people closest to them.

"You ladies just sit and look pretty," Puck shouted back a joke as the three men walked to the back.

"That was _exactly_ our plan, Puck," Mercedes chimed in with a boisterous laugh, elbowing Brittany who sat by her left and receiving a polite smile from the dancer. Even though the blonde was deep in thought… And not pleasant ones at that. Santana was really giving her the cold shoulder. Hell, cold shoulder would have been a nice change! She would have taken the cold shoulder over… that gut-wrenching _thing_ any day of the week.

Artie successfully made the beer start to flow around the table, and in no time the guys reappeared from the back of the bar. Puck and Finn were carrying a few cases of liquor, which were promptly placed on the bar's counter. And Sam, well, Sam came carrying something else.

"Look what I found in the back…" The blond man trailed on with a huge grin, lifting up the device whilst all eyes turned to him. Sam was holding up a little tube television, no bigger than 10 inches and as ancient as time. "An old school karaoke machine!" He added enthusiastically, blowing on the top of the television and causing a big puff of dust to ensue.

The table started to buzz as everyone got excited with the prospect of singing again and chatted loudly and uncontrollably amongst themselves. Except for Santana, who looked less than amused by the _discovery_ of the karaoke machine, figuring that bursting into song was the last thing she wanted to do at that moment. And Brittany, who looked too preoccupied to enthuse but at least didn't mind the possibility of more joy. She sure needed some at that moment.

"How splendid!" Rachel cried out in a very high-pitched tone, clasping her hands together in sheer glee. "I can't wait to be the first one to sing," the petite diva added in the same fashion, making Quinn smile lightly at her wife's enthusiasm and Santana roll her eyes.

"Be a little louder, won't you, Midget?" Santana scolded with exasperation, looking past Rachel to see Puck coming to the table with four bottles of scotch and Finn with a tray of glasses. At least the sight soothed her, despite Santana having to avoid Brittany's gaze as well since the blonde sat beside Rachel and was in her line of vision towards the guys.

Santana's remark earned reproaching looks from Tina, her fiancé and Kurt, but was simply ignored by Rachel. Quinn also sent Santana a warning mild glare. She knew Santana had something up her ass, but there was no need to take it out on her wife.

"We don't even know if the machine works," Finn piped in casually, placing the tray on the table.

"If only we would be so lucky," Santana mumbled under her breath and Riley, the only one who listened, placed a soothing hand on the brunette's thigh under the table. Santana couldn't help but sent the poor soul a fake little smile in gratitude. She didn't deserve the ginger. She didn't deserve anyone, really. She was ruined. _Brittany_ had ruined her. _God, even I know how much of a whiny little bitch I'm sounding like in my own fucking head_; Santana thought briefly.

"I didn't even know the thing was back there. Must have been old man Charlie's," Puck informed with a blasé shrug, placing the bottles on the table right after Finn placed the tray.

"The songs in it are pretty vintage as well," Sam said engrossed in thought as he flipped through the dusty book of songs. The machine placed on the table in front of him.

"Oh, old tunes are fantastic for my timbre of voice," Rachel couldn't help but say with a wide grin plastered on her face.

Brittany looked over at Santana from across the table, expecting a retort or a scoff, but the brown-eyed woman was apparently too busy fixing herself a really substantial glass of scotch. The dancer sighed and remembered herself for the umpteenth time that she would fix everything soon. No need for that awful feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"What are we waiting for?" Artie asked in his congenial good-boy tone. "Let's set this baby up," he added from his wife's side, pointing with his head to the little stage – if one could really call the slightly elevated small surface directly in front of the tables a 'stage'.

Sam grabbed the television set, microphone and wires and walked to the 'stage' as Artie rolled over there from the other side of the table. Finn soon followed after, laying a soft kiss on his seated fiancé's head first.

"You're really quiet, Britt," Quinn stated for the blue-eyed woman's ear only. She could see the tension between her friends with the same clarity as she would have seen a pink elephant sitting in the middle of the bar. "Something wrong?" The shorter blonde added in concerned question, but before Brittany could answer Mercedes interrupted their unknown private time.

"I hope you're not thinking of hogging all the songs like you used to, Rachel," Mercedes joked from Brittany's side as she addressed the theater diva that was already going through the book of songs with untamed excitement.

"Me _hogging_? Nonsense," Rachel dismissed with an air of seriousness but not looking up from the old black book, which brought laugh from several people sitting at the table. Including Quinn.

The real liquor flowed around the table along with the beer whilst the guys hooked up the karaoke machine on 'stage'. Santana was downing her fair share of scotch and tequila – which found its way to the table soon after its friends – and doing her best at shooting down the many glances Brittany insisted on sending her way for some reason, but the brunette still kept mindful of her limits to avoid potential meltdowns. Her goal was still numb, _not_ drunk. Never hurt to repeat it internally.

A while later the guys managed to make the karaoke machine work and Rachel volunteered to take the lead as she did whine like Patsy Cline with a rendition of _Crazy _on the so-called stage. While everyone was engrossed in the performance, Brittany took the opportunity to try and start a conversation with Santana. She hated that they were in such a crappy state: not talking and the brunette avoiding even her forlorn glances.

"I miss seeing Rach perform…" Brittany said softly to Santana from across the table, trying to take a hold of those sharp brown eyes to no avail. Santana didn't turn her gaze the blonde's way. "Don't you?" The dancer added in question, not giving up that easily.

However, seconds passed and no answer came. Santana just took a swig of her scotch and quickly shot daggers Brittany's way before returning her eyes to the petite diva.

Riley, who had witnessed the whole thing, felt awkward with the unanswered question and decided to chime in for her girlfriend, "She really is very good." And she offered Brittany a half-smile. The tall blonde mimicked the kind gesture for lack of better response.

Quinn just watched the interactions from the corner of her eye. The hazel-eyed woman's attention split between her wife and the mind-boggling weirdness occurring with her two best friends. She knew it was prying on her part but Quinn needed to get to the bottom of that story, especially taking in the rate within which Santana was downing booze. At least she knew the brown-eyed woman could take her liquor. Otherwise the waterworks would make an unpleasant appearance.

Rachel belted the last lines in perfect key as she read the lyrics on the tiny television that was set on top of a bar stool on stage, "_I'm crazy for tryin'. I'm crazy for cryin'. And I'm crazy for lovin' you_."

The former Glee members applauded politely and Rachel added on the microphone, "Thank you! Thank you! You were a lovely audience." And she smiled her best performer smile, earning an eye-roll from Santana. Not that the petite brunette noticed through her high as she made her way back to the table, receiving a peck on the lips from Quinn.

The night went on in the same spirit. Mercedes sang _Feeling Good_ with enough soul to go around for years. Tina covered _Piece Of My Heart_ with all she got. Sam did a fun take on _Dance, Dance, Dance_. Puck and Finn did a nice and rough duet of _If You See Her Say Hello_. And Quinn and Brittany – dragged by the former since the tall blonde felt reluctant to sing under the circumstances – followed with a lighthearted version of _The Tide Is High_.

Brittany made sure to send suggestive, subtle looks Santana's way every time she would sing, "_The tide is high but I'm holding on. I'm gonna be your number one_. _I'm not the kind of girl who gives up just like that._" Looks that were dismissed with shakes of head and/or scoffs _when_ taken under consideration _at all_. But the dancer was nothing more than tenacious and kept sending the looks anyway.

Kurt was in the middle of singing _I Want To Hold Your Hand_ when Santana's betraying eyes traveled to an unsuspecting Brittany, who was talking to Artie a bit further down the table among all the other gleeks who kept chatting amongst themselves and watching the performance. The sight did nothing to appease the brunette's hard feelings as the crystal clear parallels were drawing in her head faster than Zoey could charm a perfect stranger. Suddenly, Santana felt just like her teenager-self; transported to a time where her already angry persona was turned a hundred times worse by the sting of Brittany's rejection, by the blonde choosing someone else over her when she stood before her with her heart in her hand. She could even _listen_ to the overly familiar Copeland's _Love Affair_ tune ringing in her ears – instead of Kurt's singing voice – like old times, when she used to hear it on repeat. And she could even _see_ in her mind the view of her bedroom ceiling as she lied there in her bed staring at it while listening to said song and allowing herself to cry even though her pride was telling her she was nothing but a pathetic little girl. Because she was yet again pondering whether her kiss had been too weak, whether her eyes had been too tired, too tired to distinguish fact from fiction. The only difference was that she probably deserved to be treated by Brittany like she was back then. Santana knew she had dropped the ball in the past concerning the whole Artie situation. She had practically pushed the blue-eyed teen into the nerd's arms. But it was not the case where they presently stood. She did not deserve to be treated that way. Not after everything they've shared.

_How could Brittany have done that to her? How could she be so callous? Have so little feeling?_ The thoughts and feelings swam through Santana's mind and body in a tumultuous pace. And, at that very moment, she knew. Santana _knew_ with the type of certainty you only encounter a few times in life that she had been right that first time when she came back from her coma. She couldn't stay in Lima. Not like that. The brunette was fooling herself thinking she could be just friends with Brittany. Because, when it came to her former wife, she could _never _be only friends or only lovers. She could never be one without the other. Not after everything they had. It surprised her that Brittany could, really, but what she didn't know was that the blue-eyed woman would choose to have her under any capacity rather than not to have her at all. People are never the same. Thoughts and feelings always vary, but that's the beauty in life, in individuals.

Santana's predictions came through. Their situation brought the worst side of her to play. She had reverted to her old angry ways. She didn't remember the last time she felt as mad as she was feeling at that moment, and she was quite aware of how snappy she had been with everyone around her. Santana didn't like the old her and she wasn't looking forward to entertain that persona again. So, it all ultimately came back to her original answer to the same problem: she _had_ to move back to New York. That initial solution was truly proving itself to be the best course of action for everyone involved. It would kill the brunette if Zoey ever got to see that side of her. And besides, she still missed the big city. She still didn't belong to Lima like she did to New York. She still missed her friends and even her real job, to be completely honest. Santana didn't mind being a general physician but being a plastic surgeon was her calling, her passion. And she wouldn't ignore those feelings any longer. She promised Brittany after she woke up that she would try to be just friends with her and make Lima into a home again, and she did. She did try. Now Santana just had to admit that she had failed. It had become too hard.

As the wheels turned in Santana's head, Brittany started to feel her ex's eyes on her and she quickly averted those blue pools from Artie to the woman in question. For the first time in the night Santana didn't look away from the dancer. She allowed their eyes to connect in that heated lock and the intensity of the look in the brown-eyed woman's eyes suddenly made Brittany sort of regret seeking the stare all night long. The resentment, the heaviness, the sadness, the anger, the coldness, the sharpness and, yes, even the love she still detected in the dark orbs made Brittany flinch in place. She took a deep breath and, yet again, couldn't wait to settle everything so they could be alright once more.

Santana held Brittany's stare and couldn't help but see the sheer love and adoration there, and as Riley chatted away with Rachel, the brunette doctor couldn't figure out all these mixed signals the blue-eyed woman insisted on sending her way. It was official: Brittany was trying to drive her completely mad, in both senses of the word. But then again she knew things and feelings in life weren't simply _this_ or _that_. People were complicated, complex, and between 'this' and 'that' there were a myriad of other intricate stuff. However, her brain wasn't really interested in delving into explanations that could get her ex off the hook. And so, it dropped the merciful train of thought as quickly as it had picked it up. With that cogitation, Santana took a shot of tequila after brusquely averting her gaze from a tentatively smiling Brittany. _New York, here I come…_

* * *

><p>The night kept going despite anyone's inner turmoil. But isn't that how life usually work? If only the world would stop spinning whenever anyone felt off, so the person could at least catch a breath and regroup. One thing is for sure: lots of hasty, stupid decisions would not be made. However, this pale blue dot of ours didn't work like that…<p>

The people in Charlie's had gotten up from the table and scattered around the bar, but they were still chatting in little groups here and there and they still took turns singing on 'stage'.

At that moment Sam was doing his best impression of _Space Oddity _with extra enthusiasm as Brittany was coming from the bathroom to stop at the bar and grab a drink from Puck, who had been standing behind it for a while – sheer force of habit – only to be intercepted midway by her pair of bewildered best friends.

"Brittany, where were you?" Rachel asked in a shrill voice, her eyes wide and alarmed as Quinn stood by her side.

Brittany shot her and Quinn a puzzled look and replied sort of in question form, "In the bathroom?" After a short beat the leggy blonde added more evenly, "Why?"

Sam's voice could be heard, "_And I'm floating in a most peculiar way. And the stars look very different today_…" And some people were cheering him on, not that the girls were paying any real attention.

"What happened between you and Santana?" Quinn asked rapidly, cutting straight to the chase. She had always been a practical woman, and she was already on the edge of her reason. If she let it up to her wife they would be circling around the issue for a century before actually broaching it.

Brittany bit her bottom lip and looked quite antsy whilst Quinn continued in a soft tone, "I mean, she has been practically biting people's heads off. She called me Lucy _twice_ on our way here." She said the last part with indignation. "I haven't seen her like this in, I don't know, forever. And now she announced to the whole table that she is moving back to New York with Riley."

"What?" Brittany asked a bit too loudly on reflex, her eyes getting as wide as her friends'. "I didn't hear that," she added absentmindedly for good measure, stealing an unknown glance at the brunette in question. Her heart clenched at the sight of the scowl and distant brown eyes before returning her eyes to Quinn and Rachel before her.

"Well, she _just_ declared it while you were in the bathroom," Rachel informed as a matter of fact, and then she inaudibly mumbled the next part, "I wonder why she chose _that_ precise moment…"

Brittany sighed for the umpteenth time that night, perched herself on the nearest stool by the bar and stayed silent. She was clearly gathering her thoughts, so Quinn and Rachel moved closer to the dancer and waited patiently. Brittany's eyes were fixed on the floor and her pale hands fidgeted with the fabric of her navy blue dress.

After a while the blue-eyed woman trailed on meekly, returning her gaze to her friends' faces, "She won't actually do that..." Another short pause. "San is just mad..." A longer pause. "…at me."

Quinn and Rachel assessed the hurt, despondent look on Brittany's face and simply waited for the blonde to continue, which they knew she would. And eventually she did. Brittany told them everything that happened and the married couple fully understood the reason behind Santana's foul mood.

"Wow…" was all that Rachel could say. It really had to have been _something_ to render _Rachel_ speechless. As for Quinn she just stood silent, perplexed by everything that transpired without anyone's knowledge.

"Yeah…" Brittany backed the diva's limited response.

After Rachel regained her over-active, prolix speaking skills, she added evenly, "So, she just stormed off?" Brittany simply nodded her confirmation and the married couple had no trouble believing that whatsoever. Santana has always had a hothead. "She didn't even give you time to explain everything?" Rachel continued in some sort of stupor, and Brittany again nodded.

"But everything will be alright," the blue-eyed woman added in a slightly cheerier and resolute tone, stealing another glance at Santana quickly. "I'll talk to Jenna and I'll… I'll end things as soon as I get the chance, and then Santana and I can be together again." A ghost of a smile couldn't help but take over the blonde's pink lips for a split second, despite all the sadder ramifications.

"I know that's what I've got to do now, what I _have_ to do..." Brittany continued evenly, her eyes meeting Quinn's for a moment, which made the shorter blonde flash a tight-lip smile. Quinn surely helped, but Brittany _saw_ everything on her own.

"And it's all I've ever wanted. I don't want to fight it anymore. And I don't want to lose her…" Brittany shook her head from side to side repeatedly, eyes downcast for a moment. "Not again. I don't think I could take that," she added so delicately and so genuinely while meeting the other two women's eyes again that both her friends had to take a deeper breath to quell their emotions.

The three of them shared a moment of tranquil bliss; small smiles taking over their lips. Things would go back to normal soon. Total happiness was just a step away so it seemed.

"I'm so happy for you. _Both_ of you," Quinn said in her trademark velvety tone, rubbing Brittany's upper arm with the small smile still in place.

"_We_ are," Rachel amended softly, widening her own smile. "Now let's get back to the table," the petite brunette added in high spirits, starting to do so hand-in-hand with Quinn as Brittany followed close.

When they reached the table and proceeded to take their seats, Sam's song had finished already and an apparently heated conversation was taking place.

"You totally should," Kurt said in his best motivational voice.

Briefly eyeing the newest additions to the table with suspicious eyes, Santana spit out with determination but still with a great deal of nonchalance, "In case my last statement wasn't clear enough: I do _not_ sing anymore. As in: _not ever again_." And she rolled her eyes, just because she could and wanted whilst taking a sip of beer. She thought it best to lay off the scotch for a bit. Just a bit.

"Besides, there are still people who didn't sing yet," Santana added briskly, trying to dodge the subject. "Wheels for instance," she offered, throwing an inconsequential look the nerd's way.

"No, everyone sang already, including me," Artie replied promptly, trying to shake the nickname that he hadn't heard in forever. "I did a version of –" he began to add but was rudely cut off by the brunette doctor.

"Yeah, you can see how memorable it was," Santana stated with bite and some venom laced in her tone.

Yes, she was certainly reverting to old habits. Nasty ones. Make no mistake: Santana was a bitch. She had always been one, and always would be... but just a regular, hilarious bitch. It had been a _long_ time since she dropped the venom, the viciousness, the cruelness and all that hurtful mean-spirited stuff.

The comment immediately earned her a kick on the shin under the table and Santana's sharp brown eyes quickly found blue ones across the table.

"Ow! What the fuck?" Santana practically yelped out, holding Brittany's confused stare with indignation and fierceness. The blonde didn't reply just furrowed her eyebrows.

Quinn cleared her throat subtly and Santana met her hazel eyes, realizing who the real culprit was. Before she could scold _Fabray_, though, the petite blonde just mouthed one word for Santana's eyes only: '_Chill_'. Quinn was tired of Santana's attitude. She was in pain, yeah, the blonde got it, but she wouldn't allow her friend to make an ass out of herself. A _jackass_, that is.

Mercedes dared to try and coax the brown-eyed woman as well with some usual sassiness, "Come on, Santana… Drop the hard-to-get act and sing a song already."

How could Quinn expect her to play nice when those people were clearly trying to send her off the edge? However, she knew the blonde had a point. One of the main reasons why Santana loved their friendship – not just Quinn's and hers – was that they had no problem with calling each other on their shit. And God only knows they were both… they were _all_, actually, full of it. She, Quinn, James, Rachel… not Brittany, though. _No…_ her _ex_ had always been the closest thing to perfect she had ever laid eyes on besides Zoey. But, when it was rarely necessary, Brittany was called on hers as well. For crying out loud! Even then, in that mad state of mind, her brain couldn't shake the dancer off and out. _Pathetic…_

Santana huffed and replied with exasperation but mellowed considerably, "What part of '_I_ _don't sing anymore_' didn't you understand, Wheezy?"

Before Mercedes could retort, especially about the nickname of yore, Riley interfered gently, placing a pale hand on Santana's tense shoulder, "Just sing _one_ song, babe…" Brittany closed her eyes briefly at the '_stolen_' term of endearment. _Soon. Very soon_; the blonde reminded herself. "I've never heard you sing before, aside from that drunken night, and I bet you have a really beautiful voice."

Santana sighed. A long, _long_ sigh. She didn't want to snap at her girlfriend yet again that miserable night, despite her strong desire to do just so. However, she surely wasn't about to burst into song, _especially_ then and there.

Brittany interrupted Santana's taking-a-breather-to-not-snap time when she spoke softly, with that sweet tone the brunette wasn't willing to hear. Not then. "Yeah, San… Sing. You've always loved it so much." And she flashed Santana a wide, supportive, loving grin.

Brittany was hoping that singing a song would at least improve the brown-eyed woman's mood a bit. Again, it broke her heart to see Santana that upset, especially since everything would correct itself and fall back into its place sooner that Santana could possibly imagine. The notion once more warmed the dancer's insides, and she couldn't wait for it to do the same to the love of her life.

Something about Brittany's smile and carefree demeanour rubbed Santana the wrong way, though. Not that it was taking much at that point. Clearly _she_ was the only one hurting. Brittany was a-ok.

"Fine," Santana announced firmly, holding those clear blue eyes with something Brittany couldn't quite place. "Okay. You…" realizing she was talking to Brittany only Santana amended her speech to disguise her slip, "…_all_ want me to sing? I'll sing," she added without missing a beat but substantially deflated whilst standing up quickly, making sure to adjust her mustard dress that had ridden up slightly due to sitting down.

People cheered on, most not really picking up on the tension. Puck handed the brunette the book of songs and she scanned it briefly, trying to find something _suitable_. Brittany discreetly looked on the scene midst the light chatter she found herself involved in after Santana's compliance. When Quinn was picking a song for them to sing her eyes fell instantly on _Songbird_ and, at that very moment, she was hoping beyond hope Santana would choose it.

Santana chose her song mighty quickly and, in no time, she was stepping onto the tiny, remarkably low 'stage' and taking a hold of the old microphone. Brittany's heart began to beat faster on its own accord, her hands a bit sweaty, and, unbeknownst to the dancer, Riley chanced a glance the blonde's way before returning her gaze to Santana on stage.

The slightly tense atmosphere was present for only a few as many talked and while the first few notes of the song began to reverberate through the warm bar, quickly followed by Santana's beautiful voice. The brunette sang the slow tune with passion but downcast eyes, her knuckles white as she held the microphone a bit too tightly. There was no need to read the lyrics on the small TV screen. She knew them by heart.

_Sometimes I feel so happy,  
><em>_Sometimes I feel so sad,  
><em>_Sometimes I feel so happy,  
><em>_But mostly you just make me mad…_

Soft guitar and chill tambourine notes echoed. Santana directed her heavy gaze to Brittany before singing the next lines. She wanted a song? There it was.

_Babe, you just make me mad…_

Brittany felt tempted to avert her eyes, but refrained from doing so. She could not. Instead the dancer took it all in: the good, the bad and the ugly.

_Linger on, your pale blue eyes,  
><em>_Linger on, your pale blue eyes…_

Santana's voice was so… _raw_, and powerful that some people who were chatting decided to turn their attention to the woman bearing her all on stage. After those verses – and the fact that the brown-eyed woman's stare was boring holes on Brittany's _pale blue eyes _– there was no doubt left who Santana was singing to.

_Thought of you as my mountain top,  
><em>_Thought of you as my peak…_

She sang the lines with a bitter smile on her face, and uttered a scoff sound right after proclaiming them. Brittany's heart dropped and the woman winced discreetly in her seat, but her eyes were still locked with the brunette's.

_Thought of you as everything,  
><em>_I've had but couldn't keep…_

As soon as the smile had appeared on Santana's face… it dropped. Crashed and burn with those loaded words that didn't fail to touch the dancer in the most personal way.

_I've had but couldn't keep…_

Santana repeated the wistful words, severing eye-contact with the blue-eyed woman because she couldn't help but close her eyes as the pretty words left her mouth. Quinn and Rachel assessed Brittany's face and the dancer looked like the saddest panda on Earth. The tall blonde's terms, not theirs.

_Linger on, your pale blue eyes,  
><em>_Linger on, your pale blue eyes…_

Riley just looked in a daze, baffled by… even _she_ didn't know exactly. The _whole_ thing, really; the ginger guessed while Santana's eyes finally made their way back to Brittany's face.

_If I could make the world as pure and strange as what I see,  
><em>_I'd put you in the mirror, I put in front of me,  
><em>_I'd put in front of me…_

Her voice was raspy and Santana sang from the heart. The performance style was all Reed, but trained ears could detect a bit of VV Mosshart's swagger in there as well. Some gleeks started to whisper inaudible side remarks to their seatmates, Quinn noticed.

_Skip a life completely,  
><em>_Stuff it in a cup,  
><em>_She said money is like us in time,  
><em>_It lies but can't stand up,  
><em>_Down for you is up,  
><em>_Linger on, your pale blue eyes,  
><em>_Linger on, your pale blue eyes…_

The guitar's sorrowful solo filled the ambient and Santana just kept staring at Brittany, letting it all wash down them as no words were spoken but a million ones were silently exchanged. And, for some reason, Santana felt lighter. Like she had purged something… _extremely_ draining. Music still never failed her. Amidst everything she braced herself for the next loaded words.

_It was good what we did yesterday,  
><em>_And I'd do it once again…_

After the couple of verses left her mouth and Brittany started to blink rapidly, Santana started to question her choice of song. But, hell… Come to think of it, she didn't really care. It was the absolute truth. So, she carried on with the revealing song.

_The fact that you are married,  
><em>_Only proves you're my best friend…_

Brittany's eyes started to well up some and even Santana began to choke on her words a bit. Perhaps that was why the dancer had blinked so fast earlier; Santana mused, but didn't stop to ponder. The show must go on… And right then she realized she was beginning to sound like Berry. Most definitely a sign to change tracks.

_But it's truly, truly a sin…_

Santana added bitterly, deciding to terminate eye-contact with the blonde once and for all due to pain and simple spite that yet again took over her being. The anger had given space to dull resignation and forced acceptance, though. _Hip, hip, hooray_.

Brittany on the other end felt the urgent need to stride to that stage and just kiss Santana senseless. The whole performance had nearly broken her… but she kept her patience and metaphorically sat on her hands for the moment. She would do it right. _End with Jenna first and then seek Santana_; the blonde once again reminded herself begrudgingly.

_Linger on, your pale blue eyes,  
><em>_Linger on, your pale blue eyes._

The song ended. People cheered on. Some of the guys were already too drunk to notice anything iffy as they clapped and wolf-whistled, but some others merely clapped in a bit of a weird haze whilst Santana got off the stage in a bit of a hurry.

"Nice, uh, performance, Santana," Tina said awkwardly after Santana returned to stand behind her previous seat at the table and uncomfortable silence washed over them.

The brunette doctor simply nodded in empty acknowledgment, trying to avoid Brittany's and her two friends' gazes, which surely were the only ones fully aware of everything. Most people returned to their own conversations while a few others kept their focus on Santana.

"I think it's time for us to leave," Santana said evenly, looking down and holding her seated girlfriend's stare. She could see the… well, she didn't know exactly what she could see in Riley's emerald-green eyes, but whatever it was it wasn't good. She couldn't say she was surprised, though. Not after her that song.

"I'm feeling a headache coming," the brown-eyed woman added, lying through her teeth as she allowed her eyes to roam blindly through some other faces at the table. "And Riley has a study group early tomorrow. Right?" Santana finished, returning her eyes to the redhead while grabbing her coat that hung on the back of her chair.

"Yeah, leave it up to my nerdy friends to schedule studying sessions on Sunday mornings," Riley said casually and with a smile on her cherry lips, trying to lighten up the tense mood and managing to dig up a few chuckles of those near them at the table. In reality most of her Nursing School friends worked, so it was hard to find a better time.

"We'll go with you," Quinn said with purpose, initiating the standing-up motion but stopping as Santana spoke immediately after.

"No, Q. You and Berry can stay," Santana replied resolutely, grabbing her clutch from the table whilst Riley stood up beside her. "No need to spoil your night. I'm sure someone can give you guys a ride, and you know where I leave my spare key," she added promptly. Truth was she did not feel like playing 20 questions at the moment, and she knew her friends would press on. All Santana wanted was to go home, take a long shower, crawl into bed and forget the whole night.

Brittany just silently watched the whole scene like she was trapped in an out-of-body experience. Her tongue was tied and her blue eyes were wide.

"I don't know… I –" Quinn started with hesitation but was cut off.

"Well, I do. Stay." Santana stated calmly, but Quinn could tell by her eyes that she meant business. So, she complied with a simple head nod. "Good," the brunette woman added with the fakest of little smiles.

"We'll take you two," Tina offered Quinn and Rachel with a smile on her eyes, and her fiancé nodded with a similar smile on his by Tina's side. The married couple smiled politely in return, albeit Quinn's reluctance to let Santana go alone. That performance had been heavy.

"You're leaving way too early, Santana," Mercedes said politely and the brunette doctor just shrugged in response. She wanted to leave. Badly. She had made a fool out of herself enough for one night.

Riley began to say some goodbyes to Puck who stood behind the bar and some others who dispersed there moments ago while Brittany took the opportunity to snap out of her daze. She couldn't help anymore. She would just say everything. Spill her heart out. To hell with having patience and all that! Brittany hated the prospect of ending the night on that unsavoury note, in spite of her plans to fix it all.

Brittany stood up subtly and made her short way to Santana, who had her back to the dancer as she had some final words of goodbye with Quinn. The hazel-eyed woman seeing Brittany approaching left the brunette doctor to go to her wife.

"Santana…" Brittany practically pleaded softly in a low and sweet tone of voice. The importance of the situation called for the blonde to use the other woman's full name. She wanted Santana to take her most seriously. When the brown-eyed woman turned around immediately to face her, Brittany asked in the same fashion, "Can we please talk for a bit?"

Santana held Brittany's stare for a short while. The look on the brunette's eyes was… strange, to say the least. It made Brittany nervous when she couldn't precisely pinpoint what was behind those brown eyes.

And so Santana replied emotionless, even though her words betrayed her own tone, "I rather not." Brittany blinked several times out of discomfort. "Wouldn't want to cause a scene at this _pleasant_ even now, would we?" Santana added in kind, striding towards her girlfriend as she once again gave Brittany no chance to reply.

"Please, drive safe!" Brittany managed to call out to Santana's retreating figure. The brunette did have lots of drinks that night and despite her high tolerance for alcohol Brittany couldn't help but worry about her. Santana heard her but did not bother to acknowledge.

The dancer sighed and watched her go. Watched Santana pull some money from her clutch and stuff it in the giant brandy glass they had arranged to leave Puck 'tips' since the man refused to let them pay for the drinks. Despite the failed attempt, Brittany would have her time soon, and then she would have all the cards in hand to _make_ Santana listen to her. Those were the thoughts wreaking havoc in the blue-eyed woman's mind whilst Santana left Charlie's with Riley by her side.

As Riley crossed the front door of Puck's bar with Santana, she feared what would happen to her and the brunette's relationship despite her decision to not voice her concern to her girlfriend. She knew all along that the doctor wasn't exactly over her ex-wife. Santana never led her on or anything like that. Riley had been okay with the fact that she would have to fight for Santana's heart. But, up until that night, she thought she was fighting with old memories but right then the ginger wasn't so sure. Something told Riley that Santana's feelings for Brittany were very much so mutual, despite the fact that the blonde dancer had a wife. Riley guessed the absence of the woman at the bar gave the redhead some pause to think as well, but deep down she knew the short blonde simply had an emergency to tend to. Maybe she was reading too much into things… Either way, Riley wasn't one to back down from a challenge. She would do her best, and since Santana was moving back to New York with her, they stood a chance after all.

* * *

><p>It was pretty late when Quinn, Rachel and Brittany – alongside with the ones who were giving them rides – decided to call it a night. It didn't mean that there weren't still people inside Charlie's… because there were. The three women stood on the sidewalk in front of the bar with Tina, her fiancé, Kurt, Mercedes, and her husband. They were saying their final goodbyes before heading towards their respective cars.<p>

"We'll see you tomorrow before we leave," Rachel called out to Brittany as they all made their separate ways. Brittany was riding with Kurt, Mercedes and her husband as Rachel and Quinn were going with Tina and her fiancé.

"You better," Brittany called back with a smile playing on her lips.

Tina's fiancé was driving the married couple to Santana's place whilst the women made idle chat, trying to catch up some more.

After a brief moment of comfortable silence, Tina said without malice and out of the blue, "Santana clearly still holds on to her High School mood, huh?" The woman let out a small chuckle. "I mean, all the insulting nicknames she dug up, and then the 180 with that song… No wonder Brittany left her," Tina concluded lightheartedly, looking back at the married couple from the front seat.

Quinn couldn't quite believe her ears. Tina had a lot of nerve judging Santana like that – erroneously so, she might add – and jumping to completely wrong conclusions in front of the doctor's closest friends no less. Not that the Asian woman knew how close they actually were, or anything about Santana's coma and her and Brittany's whole story. Regardless, she was totally out of line and Quinn was slightly tipsy and everyone knew her temper rose in kind to her drunk levels.

Before Quinn could '_politely_' retort, though, Rachel placed a soothing hand on her wife's knee and took the lead, "It wasn't like that, Tina." Rachel's tone was gentle, but a little patronizing and condescending. Not that she minded, really. "Not in the slightest. And Santana is going through a rough patch right now, so her mood is completely understandable."

Tina just gaped some in surprise, eyes locked with the petite diva. She didn't mean any offense. In fact her words had meant to be playful, not hurtful. Before she could process some sort of apologetic reply, though, Rachel carried on. The woman always did love a good soliloquy.

"There's no need to feel bad and apologize," Rachel continued and felt Quinn stiffen under her touch, however she was quick to amend, "But, if you really want to know what kind of person Santana really is, I'll just tell you one quick story. The four of us: Quinn, myself, Santana and Brittany used to all live in New York up to a few years ago. You know, before Brittany and Santana had to move back here, but maybe you don't know… Anyhow, that is not the point. The point is Quinn used to work in the corporate world before she and Brittany partnered up and opened the dance studio. The job was stressful and demanding, and she didn't like it very much." Rachel received a sidelong, confused look from her wife and got back on track again. "But that is not the point either. The point actually is that Quinn had to go to a meeting in Boston for the firm she worked at a couple of days prior to our first wedding anniversary…" Quinn lightly smiled when she realized where her wife was going with that story and Tina just kept looking and paying attention to the lively speaker.

"I recall she left in a Thursday. The meeting would take place Friday and she would be back Saturday morning, which was the day of our anniversary. Long story short – I don't want to bore you with minutiae," Rachel interjected with a candid smile, talking a mile a minute like usual as the other people in the car laughed at the irony of her statement. "It snowed so much Thursday night and Friday that the airports got closed and Quinn had no way to come back home in time. Now, you must remember how I am. I'm very much so in touch with my feelings," the petite brunette added casually and Quinn felt like interjecting and calling like it was: her wife was a drama queen, but the blonde refrained from doing so.

"So, when Quinn called Friday morning to tell me the awful news I was a complete mess. I went to Britt and Santana's in tears and continued to cry my eyes out. Santana kept complaining about my 'freak-out' while Brittany tried to soothe my nerves, and when B finally managed to calm me down a bit I went back home in low spirits. Anyways, when I woke up Saturday morning Quinn was sitting by my bedside," Rachel told the story, smiling in time with Quinn, Tina and, by that time, Tina's fiancé, who had been sucked into the story as he drove the rental car.

"I thought it was a miracle but, in reality, Santana had rented a car soon after I left their place and drove all the way to Boston in the middle of the night to go and get Quinn so she would be back in time for our anniversary. You see, Quinn didn't even consider driving back by herself because she had a broken arm in a cast and sling from one of James's ridiculous… well, that doesn't matter either. Anyhow, Santana even made Quinn and Brittany promise not to tell me she had gone through all that trouble for me, for _us_, and they actually managed to keep it a secret for quite some time, but Britt let it slip after too much wine at one of our dinner parties," Rachel finished with the widest of grins, squeezing Quinn's knee harder as Tina mimicked her grin.

"So, yes, that's who Santana is: a friend," Rachel added with her pompous tone of voice, looking sideways to catch Quinn's gaze full on. The look of pride and love she found there was enough to make her heart beat a bit faster. "A great one at that," she added, not dropping Quinn's stare.

Then Rachel returned her warm dark eyes to Tina and finished gently, "Again, what you said is alright. You didn't know… You _don't_ know her. But I guess you can see now why whatever childish name calling on Santana's part – which really is only a manifestation of her strong will to put up a tough front – will always merely pale in comparison to how and who she truly is. Can't you?"

"Of course. I'm sorry. I didn't mean…" Tina trailed off in earnest, flashing both women an apologetic smile.

"Well, now you know," Quinn let out politely and softly, but still protectively, and Tina nodded in comprehension.

Santana was the closest thing to a sister Quinn had ever had. She was more of a sister to the blonde than her own sister. Quinn genuinely loved her, not that she would ever volunteer those words out loud to the brunette doctor. Not that it mattered either. They had said it to each other innumerous times: through actions, which ultimately was what it counted.

The rest of the ride went down smoothly and, shortly after, the married couple got dropped off at their destination.

* * *

><p>Brittany tiptoed towards her bedroom soon after Kurt dropped her off at her place. She carried her heels in her hand. It sure had been an eventful night and she really felt like diving in her bed and just drift into sleep. Passing by Zoey's empty room as the dancer walked through the hallway down to her own bedroom, she couldn't help but let a tiny smile take over her lips. Their kid – or simply the <em>thought<em> of their kid – always made her smile. Brittany was sure the little monster must have had a great night at her parents'. She made a mental note to buy her Mom and Dad something as a thank you gift. They were always so helpful and she wanted to make sure they knew it. Actually she knew they knew it, but showing it some more wouldn't hurt.

Arriving at her bedroom, Brittany saw that Jenna was already asleep. The sight of her wife made her sigh involuntarily. _The things to come…_ The blonde mused inwardly with bitter-sweetness. Making sure to be extra quiet not to wake her, Brittany placed her shoes on a corner, grabbed some clothes laid on an armchair and made her way outside the bedroom and into the bathroom.

In a matter of a minute Brittany was out of her navy blue dress and into a knee-length sweatpants paired with a t-shirt. _The_ Columbia t-shirt. Looking at the piece of clothing adorning her torso through her image at the mirror Brittany smiled, caressing the fabric for a few seconds. The blue-eyed woman brushed her teeth, washed her face and got rid of the stubborn make-up. She and Santana always got on each other's case whenever one of them felt too lazy and wanted to sleep with the nasty stuff still on. The thought brought another small smile to her pink lips. Soon enough they would be able to share those little day-to-day things again.

As she dried her wet, pristine face with a towel amidst those thoughts, Brittany couldn't help but feel some heaviness wrap itself around her happy heart. Even though she would get Santana again and be positively, tremendously, unimaginably, utterly elated… she would have to break the heart of the woman peacefully sleeping just down that same hallway in order to get that. Brittany was already set on doing it. There was no doubt or other way about it. But it didn't mean that she wasn't feeling bad for Jenna.

Brittany tossed the hand towel aside, stared at her lively, determined blue eyes in the mirror for a long while, and finally went to her bedroom. Upon her arrival the dancer could see that Jenna hadn't even stirred in bed. The short blonde lied there in the same position as before. Shrugging it off, Brittany merely pulled down the covers and got into, keeping to her side of the bed. Tomorrow would be another day. Possibly a tough one, but also brighter; the blonde hoped as sleep slowly took over her.

A few hours later the sleeping, blue-eyed, blonde beauty stirred in her sleep, and then after some tosses and turns Brittany was awake. Her alabaster hand unconsciously touched cold sheets and she looked sideways to see that Jenna was no longer lying there beside her. And judging by the complete coldness of the sheets the green-eyed woman had gotten up quite a while ago.

Brittany shifted her head, rubbed the sleep from her eyes and took a gander at the alarm-clock on the nightstand. It was little past 6 in the morning. Looking at her bedroom's window she could see that it was still a bit dark outside and unexpected rain was lightly crashing against the glass of the small window. Another thought came to her head: she needed some water because her mouth was beyond dry from all the drinks last night. Thank God she was one of the fortunate ones to never suffer from hangovers; otherwise, she would be feeling pretty badly by then. Not that she drank too much. Mainly beer. And not a lot of it. She didn't get drunk.

She kicked the covers from her body and got up in search for water and Jenna. Maybe the woman went to the bathroom. Her theory was quickly proven wrong when she dragged her bare feet by the room in question and Jenna wasn't in there. Brittany kept walking and in no time she entered the living room, turning a right to get to the kitchen. However, when her hand blindly turned on the light switch there the lights revealed Jenna sitting on the couch in the joined dark living room. The sight startled the leggy dancer.

Clutching her chest in surprise, Brittany asked in a sleep-filled tone of voice, "What are you doing here alone in the dark?" She took the chance to fully take in Jenna's appearance under the bright lights. The green-eyed woman wasn't looking at her in the eyes. Instead she had a far off look. Jenna looked lost, frankly, and she was fully clothed. As in, not in the pajamas she was previously wearing.

Brittany took a step towards the living room and then she caught a glimpse of a suitcase behind the couch. At that very moment Jenna finally got out of her daze and her eyes met Brittany's for the first time since her wife entered the room. Instantly recognition of the situation dawned on Brittany.

Getting up from the couch but still holding Brittany's all-aware gaze, Jenna stated quietly and solemnly, "We need to talk." And then she finally noticed the t-shirt her wife was wearing. _Of course_; the short blonde thought, shaking her head from side to side with a tiny wry smile on her lips.

"Are you leaving?" Brittany bluntly asked with a raspy tone, but her voice did not crack unlike she thought it might have.

Jenna wanted to verbally say 'yes' but the word got stuck in her throat, so she gulped hardly and merely nodded her confirmation whilst taking a step forward. "This…" the green-eyed woman said wistfully, motioning between her and Brittany before continuing, "…this is not working anymore."

Brittany also gulped down and took a step towards Jenna. She wanted to reply but, by the look on the other woman's face, she knew Jenna had more to add, so she just waited to hear it. It was the least she could do.

Jenna looked at Brittany with soft eyes and it didn't take long for her to continue, "You know, I tried to look away… I tried to ignore the signs and to fool myself into believing that nothing was wrong. That we could just carry on like we were before she came back. I _wanted_ to believe that so bad." Jenna took a pause and ran her hand through short blonde locks. Brittany held the green stare, taking in the words and… keeping them somehow, but she just _had_ to interject.

"I tried, too, Jenna," the still very guilty part of the tall blonde spoke with complete honesty, and it commanded Jenna's attention. "So hard. You should know that. You _must_ know that," Brittany added pleadingly, shifting her weight from one foot to another in nervousness.

Jenna nodded her understanding before she replied just as candidly, "I do… but neither of us should have to try so hard, you know? It isn't how it's supposed to be. At least I don't think so."

"I know what you mean," Brittany said dejectedly and she couldn't help but reminisce about her old times with the love of her life. She wouldn't say things were ever easy, but together everything always flowed naturally, effortlessly for the two of them.

Jenna wanted to say everything she had to say, so she got back on track and continued her train of thought from before Brittany had interrupted her, "Like I said, I tried, but sometimes, uh, sometimes it was just too hard. Too hard to keep that pretense, you know? And yesterday it was just… impossible."

Brittany's eyes widened slightly and her heart skipped a beat as she lifted a hand to rest on her waist. _Had Jenna seen her and Santana together by the lockers?_ Her apprehensive train of thought was interrupted by the other woman, who kept talking.

"The way you two were dancing together…" Jenna trailed on softly with a strangled tone of voice and the blue-eyed woman relaxed a bit. The last thing she wanted was for Jenna to get even more hurt by that less than proud moment of hers from last night. Brittany didn't regret the act in itself, she regretted the circumstances. That is, she shouldn't have acted on her impulses before having that precise talk with her wife.

"So closely, so… _intimately_. I swear I've never seen you so, I don't know, so alive before," Jenna carried on, another wistful smile taking over her features as Brittany just listened with a somewhat painful expression on her pale face. "Even your eyes have been brighter since, you know…" she trailed off and Brittany's eyes couldn't hold Jenna's any longer. She cast them down in a bizarre mixture of bashfulness, happiness, and shame, for she could not honestly deny any of that.

A short moment of silence transpired between the two women as they just stood there, rooted to their spots a few steps from one another as they absorbed the magnitude of everything that was happening at that exact moment in time.

"You love her," Jenna broke the comfortable silence with her soft words and Brittany returned her gaze to the woman. Jenna no longer doubted that truth, or feared putting it out there. It was meant as a clear statement, not a question, but Brittany felt like answering all the same. Jenna deserved everything, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

"Yes. Very much," Brittany uttered every single word like a whisper, but the conviction behind them could be heard from across the globe if anyone cared to listen. "There was never really a time when I didn't," she genuinely added immediately after, making sure not to drop Jenna's green eyes. Especially when she amended, "But I love you, too."

"No, you don't," Jenna shot back immediately, shaking her head sharply. It wasn't a snap. The woman had spoken very gently but with utmost conviction. Brittany opened her mouth to protest but the green-eyed woman held up a hand to stop her, which the dancer complied with at once.

"You _care_ about me, Brittany," The woman pressed on, stuffing her hands into her jeans' pockets. "I don't think you truly grasp the difference." That part did come out rather harsh and bitter; but who could blame her? She was only human after all. And a hurt one at that.

There was a reason why Brittany hated confrontations: the little zing fully hit its target and a hurt blonde was quick to jump in her defense, despite her lack of a developed one. "I – I…" The blue-eyed woman stuttered, looking down at her bare feet while trying to formulate a proper answer as she thought about the hard accusation.

Jenna, already a tad – but just a tad – regretful of her harshness, put her out of her misery when she spoke frankly, "It's okay, really. I thought you loved me as well. For quite a while." And they locked eyes again, still standing awkwardly in between the living room and the kitchen. "That is until I first saw you interact with her after she woke up…" Jenna trailed on and Brittany took in her wife's sad features. "Yeah, let's just say it was a harsh awakening that clearly enough I was more than willing to ignore," she finished with a little chuckle, trying to fruitlessly lighten the heavy tension that had taken the room at some imprecise moment.

Brittany was confused and she couldn't help but think about what Jenna had said. She truly had always loved Santana more than she had ever loved anyone else in the world. She just never stopped to think about what those differences in degrees of feelings could entail. So, perhaps the other blonde had a point somewhere, but Brittany didn't have time to dwell on that right then.

"It's funny how things are so much clearer in retrospect, isn't it?" Jenna continued more soberly while Brittany came down from her own thoughts. "Your inability to let me see and handle Zoey as my own daughter, the ever constant visits to the hospital, the videos you and her made that were played to exhaustion, her name that was unconsciously dropped daily by you in the middle of one casual conversation or another between us… I mean, the flags were all there from the start. I just refused to consider them. I never thought I would have to. And it only got worse after she came back into play."

Brittany slowly nodded in response while sighing. Jenna was right… She did do all those things. She just never realized. "Jenna, I'm sorry…" Brittany finally uttered with sincerity, tears brimming on her eyes. It was all she could offer, and she offered it wholeheartedly. "I'm _so_ sorry. I never meant to hurt you," she added in the same fashion, eyes travelling to the ground for a moment before returning them to the face of the woman in front of her.

"I know that," Jenna replied with a slow nod of her head, tears also welling up in her eyes. She inwardly told herself she would not cry, though. "But you did," she added in earnest.

"I'm sorry," Brittany felt like repeating, and her voice noticeably cracked.

They stood there holding each other's stare for a few silent moments. Both women deeply sorry about the situation… albeit for slightly different reasons.

"It's okay… We were all put in an incredibly difficult situation, and _it_ did most of the hurting by itself. I guess we all just did the best we could under the tough circumstances," Jenna offered plainly, finally taking her hands out of her pockets. They felt too hot and confined.

Brittany merely nodded repeatedly and the movement made a tear drop down her cheek, which the dancer was quick to wipe with shaky fingers. Despite her terrible guilt she couldn't help but also agree with the extremely sensible green-eyed woman. Facing Jenna's gracefulness about the whole thing only made Brittany feel even guiltier, to be completely honest.

"Where are you going to go?" Brittany asked weakly, changing gears slightly after her eyes unintentionally fell for a few seconds on the packed suitcase by the couch.

"Paula's," Jenna answered simply, letting her own eyes travel to the suitcase for a brief while. She felt very tired all of the sudden.

"Ok…" Brittany uttered not louder than a whisper as she ran a hand through messy blonde bed-hair.

Another short period of silence washed over them. It felt like they were mourning somehow, and in a way they were. Their relationship had just died beyond their means.

Jenna broke the silence yet again. "I love you Brittany, but I just have to let you go," the short woman spoke in spite of herself with a broken tone, and yet she managed to muster up a faint little smile.

"Jenna…" Brittany trailed on with utter dejection, taking another tentative step towards the broken woman. Brittany did not know what to do or say, everything seemed not… enough. She felt like giving Jenna a hug, but her posture didn't look open to that. So, she just stayed still. Only a couple of steps between them as she tried to console the short blonde with the warmest of looks her blue eyes could possibly conjure.

"Don't feel too sorry for me," Jenna said softly with a waiver of hand, sensing some sort of pity from her soon-to-be ex-wife. "I'm not being selfless here. I'm being quite selfish, actually."

Brittany furrowed her brows because she definitely could not see that.

"I don't want to be anyone's consolation prize anymore," the woman carried on confidently, holding Brittany's gaze to send her message loud and clear, which made the dancer wince a little bit. "I want to be with someone who really loves me. Completely."

Brittany once again nodded. She even mustered up an empathetic smile. It would be futile to try to make Jenna see that she was a bit more than that to her. "I really hope you find her, Jenna. God knows if anyone deserves to be totally happy that person is you," the blue-eyed woman said wholeheartedly, receiving a warm look back from Jenna.

"Thank you," Jenna said after a beat, wiping her own tear that fell from her eye. So _much for not crying…_ "There's an open assistant manager position at the Cincinnati's Wal-Mart. I think I'll apply," she continued evenly after another short beat.

"Jenna, you don't have –" Brittany began to protest, shaking her head from side to side with her eyebrows furrowed together.

"I do. I need a fresh start," the green-eyed blonde cut her off softly but with conviction.

Relenting, Brittany replied offhandedly, "Well, then I wish you all the best… and all the love in the world." Lord knew she meant it.

Jenna offered Brittany one short nod. There was nothing really left for her to say. So, she went with, "I'll stop by another day to grab the rest of my stuff." It was Brittany's time to offer a short nod. "I was wondering… Could I see Zoey sometime to talk? I don't want to simply disappear from her life without as much as a word," Jenna added tentatively and bashfully, her gaze dropping to the floor.

Brittany smiled at Jenna's good nature. "Of course… Anytime you wish," she answered promptly, her voice as gentle as it comes.

"Thank you," Jenna said politely, moving her gaze to eye-level again. "I guess this is it, huh?" She added awkwardly.

"I guess," Brittany replied hoarsely, clearing her throat immediately after saying it.

"Goodbye, Brittany," Jenna said weakly, taking the two remaining steps forward and placing a feather-like kiss on the tall blonde's right cheek. She would not cry…

"Goodbye, Jenna," Brittany shot back in the same manner, wrapping the shorter woman in a short bittersweet hug.

Jenna morosely moved over to her suitcase and picked it up by its handle. "Tell…" She began to say, mustering up the strength to utter the bitter name she had managed to dodge the entire conversation, "…_Santana_ that she is a very lucky woman," she finished evenly, looking at Brittany from over her shoulder.

Brittany wanted to say that she was the lucky one, but that would be unbecoming. So, she nodded with a tiny smile on her pink lips and watched as Jenna left, realizing after a long time that it was still raining outside.

She went to the window after Jenna closed the door behind her and watched as the woman dodged the rain on the way to her car, the first rays of light starting to appear shyly. Brittany felt light and heavy at the same time, if that was even possible. At least she felt hopeful. Really hopeful like she haven't felt in a long time.

The car left and a stunned Brittany went to the couch absentmindedly, taking a seat there. She did not know how long she sat there, taking it all in. Jenna had beaten her to the punch in the end. Three fingers made their way to her lips and just kept gently touching the sensitive skin there as her mind worked without really working. Suddenly her fingers felt a small smile forming on the pink lips they had been touching for some time.

And just like that Brittany got up from the couch, grabbed her house keys from the coffee table where she had dropped them last night, stepped into a pair of sneakers that she had thrown by the front door after her last dance class without even bothering to put socks on, and carelessly went out the door. All in a rush. Brittany had only _one_ destination in mind.

* * *

><p><em>It was true love's all-powerful kiss but, come on, you dearest readers didn't think it would solve all their problems, right? ;)<em>  
><em>So, I said to prepare you little hearts, right? Well, next chapter I will definitely be putting some more serious weights into them. Yes, that was a not-so-subtle Interpol reference *lol* Oh, and Brittany will certainly get very wet. No, unfortunately, that was not another revealing pun :)<em>

**Tell me what you think, good folks :D  
>I still have many PMs to answer and I have not forgotten them. Just bear with me, readers...<strong>


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Glee _nor its original characters (if I did it would probably be called _The Brittany and Santana Show_, and all the other characters would only be there to help advance their plot, if they were even there at all).

**A/N: **Hey, readers! I'm back. First and foremost: thank you all for the kindness, and the sweet words, and well wishes, and... just... thank you so much. You guys are the best. Sorry it took a while longer than anticipated but right after my last message I decided to take a proper vacation, you know, instead of just taking a week tops like I've been doing in the past. That's why it took longer. But I'm getting my writing mojo back. Slowly.

***Without further ado this one goes out to: everyone. There's really no way of choosing this time. You're all fantastic. However, I MUST point out that it goes especially to _you_. You know who you are. Yes, **you**, I won't mention the username because it looks like you're not exactly out and I'm no Finn. I don't know whether anyone from your "real life" knows you're around here and knows your username. So, better safe than sorry. Anyways, Jesus, kid, I'm so... unworthy of your PM, but I'm genuinely happy that the story touched you so much and helped you in a special way. I'm flattered, but mostly in awe of you and your ability for... I don't know, generosity? With others and especially with yourself. I guess the word doesn't do you justice. Know that your message touched me too. Deeply. I thank you. I'm terrible at advice like you asked of me, and I already answered your PM properly, but I leave you with the wise words of the philosopher Morrissey: "It's so easy to laugh. It's so easy to hate. It takes strength to be gentle and kind." And you are mighty strong, my friend. I'm not really one for turning the other cheek, so rise above and hold your head high. Oh, and by the way, glad you searched the Copeland song I hinted at in that chapter. It really seems to have been written for Santana. Happy it helped you as well, even if it brought you to tears. Sorry :) Again, all the best to you and keep being your amazing self.

Hope you guys like the chapter. It's an extra long one, so I also hope it makes up for the wait. Enjoy!  
><strong><br>**

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><p><strong>Mischances, Stances and Stolen Glances<br>**_||Chapter Eighteen||_

_Santana stood in front of her hospital locker, hurriedly adjusting the black overcoat she had just put over the blue scrubs, and stuffing some small items in the coat's pockets. It was close to eight in the morning. She had this goofy little smile on her face, which made for a pretty eerie sight for a few fellow interns around her that were changing to go home as well._

_James approached her. His locker was one down to his friend's. "Thanks a lot for waiting for me back there," the British man spoke sarcastically while opening up his own locker._

_A few seconds passed and the lack of a snappy retort made Jimmy look at Santana's face for the first time since entering the room. The shaggy-haired tall man noticed the goofy grin instantly._

"_Someone is in a good mood," James said playfully, letting a cheeky smile take over his own lips. The comment earned him a brief sideways look from the daydreaming brunette as she pulled her long ponytail from under the back of her coat. Remarkably there was no eye-roll to follow._

"_I wonder why that is…" He continued in a lighthearted teasing manner, taking off the stethoscope from around his neck and storing it in the locker before quickly returning his gaze to his friend. "I bet it has nothing to do with a certain gallivanting blonde dancer who will be coming home tomorrow," Jimmy added knowingly, noticing as Santana's goofy grin morphed into a full-blown one._

_Santana said candidly, holding the man's gaze while putting a set of keys in her pocket, "Yes, I am happy that my fiancée…" their new relationship status still made her all warm and fuzzy inside "…will finish her tour and come back home tomorrow morning."_

_After a beat. "Is that a crime?" She added for good measure, stepping closer to her locker so a woman could pass behind her._

"_Aww, she's admitting it, ladies and chaps," James said a bit louder in his sweetest tone of voice, comically looking around himself at no one in particular. "How proud I am of your emotional growth, my dear," he added in a joking manner. "You've come so far…" the hazel-eyed guy trailed on through a mild laugh, holding on to his locker's door absentmindedly._

"_Screw you," Santana shot back immediately, but there was no bite to her words and the lingering grin gave her away. "Besides, you don't even know what 'emotional growth' means… my dear," she added sarcastically without missing a beat, closing with a thud her locker's door in the process._

"_Now…" the woman drawled out, meeting her friend's gaze full-on. "I've got to run. You see, I have many things to do before tomorrow. That's why I didn't have time to hold your hand all the way from back there to here," Santana added condescendingly, slightly turning around to begin walking towards the exit door. "So, bye," she finished, taking a couple of steps to the door before being stopped by Jimmy's voice._

"_Wait!" He called out, making the brunette come to a halt. "What about our coffee?" James asked with slightly furrowed brows. They always had coffee together at the nearby diner after having worked the graveyard shift. "What do you have to do that is so pressing to the point of giving up coffee?"_

_Santana took a deep breath and relinquished it slowly. She was in fact on a rush, but her mood was too good. So, she decided to just indulge the guy. _

_Putting her hands in her coat's pockets she said calmly, facing James, "Well, if you must know, I have to tidy up the place a bit…" she took one hand out of her pocket to start counting them on her fingers, "…do some laundry, then I have to pick up my red little dress that Britt loves so much at the dry cleaning, go to my hair appointment at the hairdresser near Berry's and do my nails by myself since those exploitative bastards from that fancy flower shop at the corner of 5th and Main are practically charging me a kidney for the arrangement of gerbera daisies I ordered, you know, Britt's favourite flowers…" _

_Her rant was softened by the smile that was brought to her face at the mention of the tidbit that, however, didn't stop her from continuing as she held her hand in the air showing five fingers whilst Jimmy smiled at her antics, "Which reminds me that I also have to pick the thing up first thing in the morning before going to the airport. But seriously, those flowers better be sprinkled with powder gold or some shit because I've been surviving on crackers and water this last week to afford it." And she smiled widely at her own quip. _

_It hadn't been the flowers that broke her though. The real reason was the last-minute first class ticket to Seattle she had to buy to go see one of Brittany's gigs two months ago. Santana had a rare long weekend opened-up after one of her Med School professors caught a serious bug and cancelled all his classes that one Friday. On a crazy whim she decided to surprise Brittany and the first class ticket was the only one yet not booked at the time. But, of course, she would blame it on the flowers; just because it had been the latest stab at her finances._

"_And on mooching off me and Quinn..." Jimmy added teasingly, a big smile on his thin lips while he took his coat from the locker. "I lost track of how many times you subtly invited me to invite you out," he added through sheer laughter._

"_Yeah, well, that's what friends are for, right?" Santana unapologetically shot back through a smirk, finally putting her counting hand down._

"_Admitting friendship as well?" James sarcastically asked in faux shock, slipping his black overcoat on. "Wow, you really missed her, didn't you?" He added in same fashion, adjusting the coat with ease while people entered and exited the room around them._

_Santana's smirk shifted into an incredibly earnest and sweet smile. "You have no idea," she replied candidly and Jimmy dropped the comics and smiled back genuinely at his best friend as he shut his locker closed._

"_And now I really have to go," Santana added after a beat._

"_No, come on," James pleaded, snapping out of the daze induced by their little genuine moment. He was a man on a mission after all. James Bond, er, Graham would not disappoint. "Only one cup of coffee... One tiny cup won't delay you," he added hurriedly. "Besides," the tall man continued suggestively, stepping close to Santana and wrapping an arm over her shoulders, "you two will most definitely be shagging on every available surface for the next few weeks. So, we won't even have the chance to hang out as much."_

_Santana took a good gander at her friend and seemed to be pondering the request. Let's face it, Jimmy did have a point. The thought made Santana smirk. She truly was dying to be with Brittany again. Like, literally dying. Ok, maybe not literally, but… She could actually feel a tiny part of her dying within each day they had spent apart. Those two times Santana surprised her fiancée by visiting her on tour weren't nearly enough for her. She ached for more. And she would be lucky if it was just about sex. No, she deeply felt Brittany's absence every day through a myriad of little things: when she was having breakfast alone; when something funny happened during the day and she'd get home all excited to tell Britt only to find the apartment empty; when she saw ducks in any way, shape or form; when she reached around the bed in the middle of the night and didn't feel the other woman's body; when that ridiculous cat commercial was playing on the tv; when she drank water; when she said the word 'like'… well, suffice to say, it was a long – and rather nonsensical to outsiders – list. Yes, phone and Skype were awesome… but nothing like face to face contact._

_Seeing an in on Santana's demeanour James pressed on gently, "You can totally get your posh on later." He used the woman's own terms – unconsciously mixed with his own – to butter her up even more._

"_Fine," Santana conceded casually… with a half-assed eye-roll of course. "One cup of coffee and then I'm out."_

"_That's my girl," Jimmy gushed patronizingly, guiding Santana outside the room with his arm still around her shoulders. The feisty brunette simply shrugged him off. She was in a good mood, but her friend was pushing it with his tone._

"_Don't forget to take notes at Barnard's class tomorrow morning," Santana said casually as they strolled down the hospital's hallways side by side. "Legible notes, please," she warned, shooting a sidelong glance at Jimmy to enforce her words. "I won't be showing up at class and I'll need them, alright?"_

"_Aye, aye, Captain," James shot back with some amusement as they neared the nurses' station._

_Soon after the couple of friends were almost reaching the exit automatic double doors when Santana noticed that her beaten-down running shoes had the lace from one foot undone. She stopped on her tracks with James coming to a halt beside her, and then with a little smile on her face she simply lifted her leg towards the man as a silent request for him to re-tie it for her._

"_Seriously, who needs the hand holding now?" Jimmy rhetorically asked with a scoff but was already bending down a bit to oblige. As he tied the lace for Santana whilst shaking his head slightly, James couldn't help but mimic the brunette's little smile._

"_Gracias," Santana uttered charmingly after the British man let her foot down gently._

_She truly is in a good mood; Jimmy mused inwardly as they crossed the exit doors together._

_Catching yet again a goofy grin on Santana's lips as he stole a sideways glance at her, the hazel-eyed man couldn't help but remark, "You really missed her, huh?"_

_As they kept strolling to the diner Santana met his gaze and held it for a few seconds before she repeated with sheer frankness, "You have no idea."_

_They exchanged a meaningful look as Santana's dope smile infected James, who displayed it back in kind. Although his had a sort of devious quality to it that was lost on his brunette friend. _

_Anyways, they continued their walk for a couple of minutes in comfortable silence. The diner wasn't far from the hospital. When they finally reached the place Santana came to an abrupt halt, taking James with her as the woman's jaw dropped and she quickly covered her mouth with her left hand: right there, leaning gracefully against the diner's building was none other than… Brittany. Her Brittany, in all her glory. The dancer wore this giddy, bright smile on her face as she stared square into her fiancée's surprised eyes._

"_Oh, My God!" Santana exclaimed with astonishment, dropping her hand from her mouth slowly. "Brittany… What are you doing here?" She added in question, wide-eyed in the middle of the sidewalk with a mischievous-looking Jimmy by her side._

"_What am I doing here?" Brittany repeated with amusement, bright smile still in place as she pushed her body off of the building whilst doing her best to balance the two to-go coffee cups that sat on a cardboard tray on her hand. "I was going for a 'welcome home, babe', but…" she trailed on playfully._

_Shaking her head from side to side repeatedly in an attempt to come to her senses, Santana replied promptly, "Well, of course, welcome home, babe…" And she flashed Brittany a still slightly shocked little smile, but took no steps in her fiancée's direction. Her feet were completely unresponsive. "I just…" Santana's words just died down in her mouth._

"_We wrapped things up earlier. My flight arrived a couple hours ago," Brittany offered simply, trying to bring her fiancée out of her shock while taking a couple of steps forward to shorten the distance between them. "Hey, Jimmy!" Brittany acknowledged the man, taking her eyes from Santana briefly for the first time to look at him._

"_Welcome home, Miss Dancer!" James said with a funny voice and a wide smile. "Well, soon-to-be Mrs. Dancer actually… Or will it be Mrs. Doctor-Dancer? Well, I'm sure you guys will decide," he continued rambling animatedly when a thought occurred to him. "Oh, Mrs. Double D! Nice…" Jimmy finished sleazily with a smug smile on his lips, which earned him a punch on the arm from Santana._

"_More respect, please!" Santana chastised, sparing her friend a glare that didn't last long because her gaze was soon back at Brittany's and the dancer's presence elated the brunette all over again. "And you knew about this?" Santana asked, clearly referring to Brittany's early arrival. James did not look surprised._

"_Obviously," James simply put it, and his entitlement made Santana roll her eyes as Brittany smiled widely. She had missed that... Those interactions. "And after all my awesome skills at keeping this quiet I get no coffee?" He asked Brittany with a slight pout, eyeing only two coffee cups on the tray._

_Without taking her eyes from Santana – they had a little eye-sex thing going on by that time – Brittany replied with a smile, "One is for San and the other is for you, big baby." And she proceeded to hand one each, passing along the tray to Jimmy as well. Both took a sip of the blessed drink immediately. "I am too wired up as it is," she added casually, finally wrapping her arms flirtatiously around Santana's neck. _

_Not only was Brittany wired up because she flew all night from LA – where their last gig was at – under the influence of several energy drinks; she was also wired up with sheer desire to touch, kiss and do numerous indecent things to her fiancée._

"_Hey, you…" Santana said sweetly, locking eyes with Brittany in an intense hold as she wrapped her free arm around the other woman's waist and pulled her impossibly closer. Her initial shock was gone and all it left in its wake was a love-struck grin._

"_Hi…" Brittany replied softly, but her words were already caught in Santana's mouth as the brunette woman kissed her fiancée gently, unhurriedly, and painstakingly sweetly. The two of them got lost in each other as hands touched hair, cheek and neck with revered delicateness._

_Seeing that he was being completely ignored, and would continue to be for sure, James said, "And that's my cue to leave... you know, before little Jimmy here decides to publicly embarrass me." No rise or acknowledgement whatsoever as Brittany and Santana carried on kissing in the middle of the sidewalk. "See, Britt doesn't seem to even mind that you didn't get you posh on, Lopez," Jimmy added jokingly, trying once more to instigate her. No response again. "Ok, I'm off," he continued with a laugh while taking a few steps away. _

"_Don't forget to use protection, ladies," Jimmy called out with amusement from some distance, already hailing a cab while receiving some strange looks from passers-by and – finally – a half-assed, mid-kiss flip-off from Santana._

_The two women carried on kissing ever-so-tenderly – no tongue action, or maybe just a smidge – for a while longer, having gradually taken Brittany's old spot against the diner's building due to some deluded innate sense of privacy. Santana was doing her best not to drop the coffee cup in her hand since the kiss was rendering her a tad… lightheaded. After some more lip movements they broke the kiss with a pop sound and a dope smile took over their lips again. Brittany couldn't help but relish the familiar coffee laced taste of her fiancée's lips. She missed that, even not being a coffee-freak like Santana._

_After a moment of just gazing into each other's eyes to take everything in, Santana broke the utterly comfortable silence. "I can't believe you're here," she said softly, shaking her head from side to side with amusement. And then she took a proper once over at Brittany. She looked as gorgeous as she remembered. Yes, it had only been four months – even less since she visited Brittany twice on tour – but they felt like four years to Santana. Brittany wore a pair of extremely dark washed skinny jeans and fabulous over-the-knee boots, paired with a black fitted leather jacket over a green blouse with Peter-Pan collar. Santana loved that blouse on Brittany. The particular shade of green of it appeared to give the dancer's already mesmerizing eyes this certain undefined mystic that made Santana slightly breathless. She wondered if Brittany chose the top on purpose. Actually, Santana didn't wonder. She knew Brittany did, and the notion made her heart flutter even more._

"_Well, believe," Brittany all but husked back, holding Santana's stare but finally realizing she had a bunch of the fabric from the front of Santana's blue scrubs top balled up in a fierce fist. She let go of it with an impish smile followed by a chuckle. Santana quickly joined her with a laugh of her own as Brittany delicately smoothed out the wrinkles while the brunette took another swig of her coffee._

_Yes, they were aware that they were acting like lovesick teenagers… but they did not care._

"_Now let's grab a cab and go home, babe," Santana said simply, outstretching her right hand a bit as a silent offer for Brittany to take it, which the latter took without hesitation despite halting her fiancée's movement by staying rooted to their spot._

_Santana shot her a confused look while feeling Brittany's fingers intertwine with hers. Perfect fit. "No, let's walk. It's such a lovely day…" Brittany replied with a smile still in place; they were having a hard time dropping the easy smiles._

_It really was a lovely day. One of those mornings when the sky is all blue with no clouds and the early sun is shining down on the little people roaming the streets going about their little lives. Although the sun was really just for show; it didn't warm anyone, but the fact didn't put a damper on the niceness. And, in all honesty, the early morning air was rather chilly; but, again, nothing compared to New York's winter that wouldn't be upon them anytime soon, by the way._

"_But it's too far, Britt," Santana reasoned lightly, mimicking Brittany's smile before sipping her coffee again. They weren't even in the same borough of their place._

_Santana was right. Brittany's giddy state was messing with her thinking process, but she got back on track. "Let's take the subway then," she offered as some sort of compromise, slightly dangling their joined hands between them. The subway was a few blocks up. They could have a good walk until there._

"_Alright," Santana replied with a wider smile. Seriously, her face was starting to hurt; especially since she hadn't been smiling a lot for, approximately, uh… four months._

"_So, when did you get here?" Santana asked casually as they started their slow walk hand-in-hand._

"_Oh, I just arrived. Only had time to drop my bags at home and come here," Brittany said easily as Santana worked on her coffee._

"_You didn't have to meet me here, babe," Santana said in her sweetest tone, locking eyes with Brittany whilst walking. "You must be exhausted," she added with empathy._

_Brittany merely uttered a dismissive scoff sound in response, which only made Santana, well, smile at her. Again._

"_I'm serious, Bri–" Santana started to say with a tone that was anything but serious before Brittany cut her off._

"_What Jimmy meant when he said you needed to get your 'posh on'?" Brittany asked with interest, eagerly changing the subject as she squeezed Santana's hand a bit to switch the brunette's attention to this topic._

_After finishing taking another swig from her coffee cup, Santana answered with another question, "You were listening?" To which Brittany simply shrugged in response so Santana continued trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, "Well, I had this whole beauty day thing planned out to, you know, polish my look and woo you with my awesome body."_

"_Aww, San… You're such a romantic in cynic's clothing," Brittany purred, beaming as she sort of affectionately – and adorably – brought her other arm to hug Santana's mid-walk. The one connected to the hand Brittany was already holding._

"_Yeah, yeah…" Santana shot back faux-dismissively. "Well, you kinda rained on my parade and now I look like shit, especially standing beside you looking like a freakin' goddess. Seriously, B, I don't know how you pull this off after spending the whole night in a plane. Anyways, I hate the graveyard shift!" She finished, enjoying the feel of Brittany pressed up against her side._

_Brittany's smile graduated from small to wide as she listened to Santana's little rant. Shaking off of her daze she replied playfully, "Hey, that's my fiancée you're talking about!" And the word made her eyes immediately travel down to her finger that sported the reasonably new, sparkling engagement ring, and right after to Santana's that sported the same look. Her smile grew bigger, if that was even possible._

_Santana failed to see the subtle looks as she chuckled slightly at Brittany's remark. God, she had missed the woman!_

_Shifting to her sweet – and alluringly low – tone, Brittany amended in earnest, "And you still are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, San... No matter what you're wearing."_

_Santana was a bit taken aback by the comment. She looked sideways at the person who never failed to amaze and surprise her and didn't miss this time the fact that Brittany was looking at her as well. The look in her eyes was so filled with love and sheer adoration… Santana couldn't help but wonder how Brittany could still look at her the same after all these years together. She could only wish and endeavour to deserve that look forever and ever. So, she flashed Brittany her sweetest smile – the one reserved for the dancer alone – and just let her own eyes convey her deep appreciation. She knew Brittany would get her. She always did._

"_Enough about me! Tell me about the tour. I wanna hear everything!" Santana broke their little moment as she spoke animatedly before finishing her coffee as they walked side-by-side with intertwined fingers._

_Brittany let out a short laugh as she relinquished her hug on Santana's arm to straighten her body and finally walk properly. "I already told you everything," she said with pure amusement. They had talked every single day on the phone or the computer._

"_I know, but in person is way better," Santana protested lightly, tossing her coffee cup in a passing garbage bin._

_Brittany relented with a sigh. "It was awesome! Everything I could have expected and more," Brittany relayed with palpable joy dancing among her words. _

_Santana stole a quick look sideways and sported a brief little smile after noticing the sparkle in her fiancée's eyes due to unadulterated excitement. _

"_The lead choreographer was like, super talented, and he always let the dancers have some creative input in his routines whenever we had stuff that we felt was relevant to improve the numbers. Everyone, well, most of the dance crew was really sweet and fun. And the stage…" she took a rather dramatic pause in her passionate monologue, "…Being up there performing… It was so wonderful and such a thrill, San… I will never forget," Brittany finished with wistful passion, squeezing Santana's hand in reflex._

_Santana smiled a bit brighter as their gaze met. She was really happy that Brittany was happy. "So, I think it's safe to say you had fun, huh?" She asked with some benign sarcasm while they turned a corner in an intersection._

"_Yes, it was the best!" Brittany confirmed with a resolute statement, flashing her bright smile once more._

"_Good!" Santana replied, utterly satisfied for her better half._

"_And I know now that I'll never want to do it again," Brittany complemented her earlier statement, her tone and facial expression serene and sure._

_Santana slowed down their already slow pace, her eyebrows furrowed with confusion. She directed her inquisitive eyes from the sidewalk ahead of them to Brittany before she asked worriedly, "Why? You just said you had a great time." If any of those artsy, pretentious dancers had done anything to taint Brittany's otherwise marvelous experience they would have to answer to her. Santana was not above tracking people down and giving them a piece of Lima Heights._

_Brittany couldn't help but grin at the concern laced in Santana's tone. "And I did," Brittany confirmed without missing a beat to reassure her better half. The worried look did not leave Santana's face, though. So, Brittany elaborated softly and honestly, blue eyes locked with brown ones as the loaded words slowly left her mouth, "But I missed you like crazy, Santana."_

_That did Santana in. The worried look gradually morphed into an utmost soft one. Brittany thought to herself that if anything could ever be described as art in movement, that shift in looks played on Santana's face would be it. Absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful._

_It spurred Brittany to keep going. "Once was definitely enough. I mean, it was fantastic and all but now I can say that I've been there, done that. Plus, it will be good for my career," Brittany said casually, sparing Santana a tight-lipped smile. "I just – I never want to be apart from you for long ever again," she finished simply and yet powerfully with assertiveness; changing the casual tone to the most assured she could muster._

_They did not know exactly which one of them had halted their steps, or how and when, but they had certainly stopped walking and were facing each other. They were also holding both hands by then, fingers intertwined._

_The silent stare down – drenched in several coy smiles, adoring looks, and hand caresses – was broken when Santana leaned forward to lovingly peck Brittany's lips. "Who's the romantic now?" She teased rhetorically with a little smirk playing on her plump lips, and Brittany had to really control herself not to ravish her right then and there in the middle of some random New York street._

_They resumed their walk to the subway eventually. "So, now you have to tell me all the latest gossip around here," Brittany said with little consequence._

"_You'd need a chair for that," Santana quipped instantly but quickly added, "Besides, I also already told you everything on the phone."_

"_In person is way better," Brittany threw Santana's own words back at her with a cheeky smile._

_Santana just laughed while shaking her head with amusement. However, after a few more steps, she couldn't hold in all those amazing feelings anymore. So, still looking ahead instead of at Brittany, she said with emotion dripping from every single syllable, "I'm really happy you're back, B." _

_And then, with revered caution – as if she was about to gaze directly at the sun – Santana allowed herself to look at Brittany just as the subway entrance appeared in their vicinity. The smile she received was more than enough prize for allowing herself to say something that would certainly render her completely vulnerable. Brittany had always been the only one worthy of such risk and, in all honesty, Santana knew she would always be._

"_I will always come back to you, San," Brittany instantly replied without any sort of apprehension, reservation or inhibition. Her ability to be so open was one of the things Santana loved and envied most about the woman who had managed to pry her way into the deepest confines of her well-guarded heart._

"_Always," Brittany stressed with a huge grin plastered on her pretty face. _

_The dancer was ever surprised by the strength of her love for Santana. She was just so in love with the woman that it wasn't even funny. She had no doubts that Santana knew she loved her very much, but Brittany wondered if her fiancée actually had any idea how ridiculously much. Either way what she was certain of was the fact that she would spend every day of her life trying to make her see it._

* * *

><p>Brittany tiptoed from the dining room into Santana's foyer. Her elbow throbbed from having banged it against the frame of the laundry room's small window as she did her best to slide in perfectly on top of the washing machine while sneaking into the house seconds ago. And her body was utterly cold from the amount of rain she caught from having frantically jogged all the way to Santana's place, despite having a perfectly useable car parked in her garage. However, as she climbed up the curved marble staircase leaving several droplets in her wake, Brittany didn't feel any of those things. Her thrill and adrenaline were running too high for her body to even begin to register said discomforts. She was a woman on a mission. Perhaps the most important mission she has ever been in, and all Brittany had in mind was her ultimate goal: Santana.<p>

With that rather beautiful thought in mind Brittany reached the beautiful woman's bedroom's door. It was closed, though; and the dancer took a long, deep breath to steady her breathing, which she suddenly realized was quite ragged. Not a moment too soon she grabbed the door handle and opened up the door slowly whilst releasing the big amount of air in her lungs. The sight before her eyes brought a small smile to Brittany's lips: Santana was sound asleep on her usual side of the bed, that is, the left one. The sudden notion that some things never change – even if they were simple things – brought a sense of warmth to the dancer's insides that was very much welcomed at that crucial moment in time.

Brittany continued her tiptoeing across Santana's room with her bottom lip caught between her teeth in a sudden case of nerves. With a few steps she was hovering above Santana's sleeping form from her bed side. In the corner of her eye Brittany caught sight of Poppy sleeping on her dog bed by the closet door and she couldn't help but smile once again. Santana complained and complained about the dog but deep down Brittany knew she was a sucker for the cute Beagle just as much as their daughter. Well, perhaps that was a bit of an exaggeration, but still.

Shaking the thought, Brittany took in the features of the sleeping beauty in front of her as raindrops from her clothes and hair slowly sprinkled the hardwood floor. Santana's body was relaxed but Brittany noticed she was lying on her back, which was quite unusual for the brunette. The dark, plushy comforter was trapped loosely beneath caramel arms. Santana's face, though, her eyebrows to be precise, were the tiniest bit scrunched. For anyone else's eyes that wouldn't mean anything, but to an expert like Brittany she knew that something had been disturbing the sleep of the love of her life. She remembered when she and Santana first started living together; in the first night they promised each other never to go to sleep angry at one another. Suffice to say, a couple of months later that rule went to space, and whenever some silly argument occurred those lines between Santana's eyebrows as she slept were the result. Come to think of it Brittany probably sported the same look while she was sleeping as well. Only Santana would know. Anyhow, considering last night's events those lines weren't exactly a surprise. In that line of thought Brittany did not wish to delay her actions any longer. She sat down on the bed beside Santana's upper body with extreme gentleness and ran her fingers with utter tenderness across the upsetting lines. God, she missed being this close, being this… _intimate_ with the other woman. She had been policing herself so, ever since Santana woke up...

Santana didn't even flinch. She kept sleeping soundly and in no time the lines were gone like it was the most natural thing for them to do. Brittany smiled a little wider and retracted her hand. Feeling bolder from Santana's reaction she leaned down, propping the weight of her body on one hand, which was firmly placed on Santana's firm mattress, and brought her other hand up to caress Santana's face with light fingers: her jaw, her cheeks, her chin, her lips… Still no sign of complaint from the brunette, who seemed to be enjoying the ministrations. Brittany then leaned on both hands, successfully hovering her face over Santana's, and began to drop feather kisses to Santana's forehead, to her left cheek, her right cheek, her little nose, her left eyelid, and then to the right one when Santana finally stirred – not from the kisses, but from the little drops of water that fell from Brittany's soaked hair and hit her face with each kiss – and began to rapidly blink half-opened eyes.

Seeing that she had successfully woken up Santana, Brittany pulled back just slightly; her face was still quite near the other woman's. She couldn't stay away any longer. Santana on the other hand adjusted her blurry, sleepy vision and realized that it was Brittany's face hovering over her.

"Brittany? Is that you?" Santana asked in a raspy voice, rubbing her eyes repeatedly to get rid of some residual blurring. She knew it was Brittany but she still asked, confused by the sudden appearance.

Not waiting for a response Santana promptly continued while propping her body on her elbows, causing Brittany to lean back a bit more, "What are you doing here?" The brunette quickly took a proper blurry-free gander at the woman sitting on her bedside and noticed her state. "Why are you all wet, and breathing so heavily?"

A hundred questions popped into Santana's head and she kept firing them before letting Brittany actually reply. "What time is it?" She looked sideways at her window and noticed that the first lights of day were already peeking through it, but it appeared to be still pretty early. And it was definitely raining. Had Brittany walked there? Was that why she was drenched? "Did you walk here in the rain?" Santana enquired in a baffled state, voicing her thoughts.

Brittany ignored all the questions that seemed unimportant and went for what really, truly mattered to her. "We're done. It's over," she said in an unknowingly confusing way with a pretty smile on her face as she pushed some wet hair out of her eyesight.

"What?" Santana asked with sheer confusion and eyes still semi-closed whilst rebalancing her upper body's weight on her elbows. Brittany was making no sense, and her head began to catch up with all the drinks she had last night. And then she actually remembered last night, her hard feelings for Brittany starting to make themselves known.

"Jenna and I... We're through," Brittany clarified offhandedly, even though she felt like it didn't need any clarification, and she couldn't help but lean forward towards Santana's face again while she spoke. She just wanted to kiss her so badly.

"What?" Santana asked again in the same tone, her eyes narrowing even more. She knew she sounded like a broken record but she was mighty confused and disoriented. Had Brittany just told her that she and Jenna were through? Her ex's hot breath hitting her face wasn't helping her obtain focus either. Wait, was she dreaming or something?

Brittany's breath hit her face again while the dancer repeated for a confused Santana's sake, "Jenna and I are over…" and Santana knew right then she wasn't dreaming. No dream felt that real. The thought was reinforced when she zeroed-in Brittany's sweet smile and felt her soft, pale hand against the skin of her shoulder as the blonde amended while leaning even more forward, "Now we can be together again."

Santana could not really precise whether it was Brittany's breath on her face, the smile on her lips, the hand on her shoulder, the words she had just spoken, or the fact that Brittany was gracefully leaning towards her… Probably a dangerous combination of all the above. All Santana knew was that her heart began to beat faster than it had in a long while. All of a sudden she felt familiar lips on her cheek, and then on her temple, and her already weak focus deteriorated even more.

Before she lost it completely, Santana managed to get herself together enough to ask while shaking her head to get rid of the stupor, "How, uh… What happened?" Her eyes fell completely shut as Brittany's lips moved to her neck, and her tone had been laced with restrained… _joy_? Could it be? Could it really be? All the while Brittany relished on the smell of Santana's neck as she eagerly nuzzled it. She missed that too. Terribly so.

"After last night I knew – I just couldn't go on… I couldn't carry on with everything, you know?" Brittany spoke in between tender pecks to the length of Santana's jaw. "I knew I had to end things…" she continued in an earnest tone that felt like music to the other woman's ears. Brittany then chanced a quick look at Santana's eyes and smiled against tan skin when she spotted them softly closed.

Santana simply hummed to egg Brittany on as she sat up properly. Her heart felt so light and jubilant… She was so glad that wasn't a dream. That would be extremely cruel.

"I knew I had to make things right," Brittany carried on after Santana's motivational sound, cupping a warm cheek as she continued with her kisses. After kissing an eyelid she proceeded absentmindedly, "So, early this morning I woke up and Jenna had her suitcase already packed, and we talked for quite a while," she kissed the other eyelid, "and decided –"

Something registered in Santana's brain with some delay due to the distracting kisses and her eyes shot brusquely open. "Wait, wait… What?" She cut Brittany off with confusion, blinking as fast as the words tumbled out of her mouth.

Brittany didn't promptly respond. She was just as distracted spreading kisses on every available patch of skin on Santana's face. Santana had no choice but to gently push her off by the shoulders. That got Brittany's attention. She already missed that skin.

"She already had her bag packed?" Santana asked directly, narrowing her eyes a bit but keeping her gaze locked on warm blue eyes.

Brittany didn't quite see her point, and she didn't really have time to dwell because Santana kept going. She took Brittany's silent confusion as a clear 'yes'.

"Brittany, did you end things with her… or did _she_ end it with _you_?" Santana asked point blank, the edge on her voice painfully audible. That was the million dollar question for the brunette, and she unknowingly held her breath to wait for the key answer.

Brittany still didn't see the importance of this. And it was _clearly_ important from the look on Santana's face, and from the sound of her voice. So, she did as best as she could to answer it while one of her hands rest casually on Santana's comforter-covered thigh, "Well, I think it was sort of mutual, I mean, she did already have her bag packed to leave when I woke up but –"

"I can't even…" Santana trailed off with exasperation while cutting Brittany off, one hand flying to her hot forehead. "You didn't leave her, did you?" She added, indignation dripping from each word. And then she didn't waste time to state matter-of-factly, "_She_ left _you_." Her head began aching again and she instinctively pulled away from Brittany, successfully leaning her back against the bed's headboard.

"Why does it matter who left who?" Brittany countered promptly with scrunched up eyebrows, already missing the previous close proximity to Santana. "All that matters is that we can be together again," she added sincerely, unconsciously managing to scoot closer to Santana while brushing a few drops of water that ran down from her soaked hair off her eyes. Brittany knew she was repeating that over and over again, but it was the heart of the matter and she just couldn't contain her excitement over it.

Santana couldn't believe what she was hearing as she shook her head repeatedly. _How could Brittany not see this?_ She bitterly mused inwardly. "Of course it matters!" Santana stated without missing a beat, slightly raising her tone of voice which previously had been somewhat rushed due to the time of day and her waking-up circumstances. "In fact, it's _all_ that matters!"

_How could Santana think like this?_ Brittany mused briefly as their eyes were locked in an intense gaze. It was all so crystal clear and unbelievably wonderful in her head. So, she shot back once more, "But we can –"

She didn't get to finish her repetitive sentence though, because Santana cut her off with even more exasperation and in an even louder voice, "No, we _can't_!"

The power and weight of Santana's statement made Brittany flinch, and she directed distraught blue eyes to her drenched lap. Their locked gaze felt like too much to handle. In a span of seconds the carpet had been swiftly swiped from beneath her steady two feet. It was indeed a dismal feeling: having one's sheer certainty taken away so… brusquely.

Santana kept going, fueled by her self-righteous indignation which was actually nothing more than plain wounded pride. Not that she would ever admit. "You must think I'm really pathetic," she said more to herself than Brittany, her tone back to its normal volume. The line was accompanied by a single dry chuckle that rattled Brittany out of her daunting stupor.

"Of course I don't. Why would I think that?" The broken dancer replied truthfully but baffled, meeting brown eyes full-on again. _When had our conversation taken such an unexpected and awful turn?_ Brittany was having some trouble breathing properly. The walls seemed to have closed in on her after the harsh tumble from the enormous pedestal built by her earlier high expectations.

Santana had barely registered Brittany's words. She was too wrapped up in her own inner pity party for one. "Whatever it is you think, you have another thing coming," she said with a hint of bitterness, stoically holding the other woman's stare. _What?_ It was hard not to feel bitter about the whole thing.

"I'm not your lap dog, Brittany. You can't just _whistle_ after being dumped by your wife and expect me to run to your open arms. It's not fair." Pregnant pause. "It's not how it was supposed to go," Santana amended with less bite and more dejected honesty as she tried to call it like it was without _actually_ calling it, her eyes softening considerably. Some things were better left half-spoken.

Brittany got what the other woman had inferred alright. The light bulb finally went on in her head. It all came down to pride, and she knew Santana had _plenty_ of that. In hindsight perhaps it was a bit naïve of her to assume things would be that easy. If she had been having trouble breathing before it just got ten times worse with that sad notion in mind.

But she pushed it through, she had to at least try and… explain. So, with dignity and honesty Brittany maintained their direct stare and said softly, "I had to try, you know? I _had_ to at least _try_ to work things out. Give it a chance. I owned our marriage – I owned her that much…" The dancer looked away for a brief second, consciously trying to keep air running through her lungs. "But it's hard. It's hard when you don't belong… When you belong with someone else," she practically whispered while idly fussing with the comforter's fabric.

And they stayed there, despondently looking at each other in the eye for a loaded minute. Caught in a standstill... The worse thing was that, deep down, Santana understood. Perhaps – well, _surely_ – not the situation, but she understood _Brittany_. Who she is; the woman's decency and character... But, at the same time, _God damn it!_

Brittany mustered the little breath she still possessed and chanced, "San… Why can't we –" But once again she was interrupted.

"You hurt me, Brittany," Santana spoke candidly in a sincere and gentle tone. The words hit Brittany with the impact of a moving train and once more she flinched. After a short pause she added, "Badly." Another short pause paired with locked eyes. It was almost overkill for the troubled Brittany.

"You _broke_ my heart," Santana finished in a rare moment of demonstration of actual weakness and vulnerability; in her book at least.

And with those four words: overkill. Brittany felt claustrophobic. The air in the room disappeared. She just couldn't breathe. Hearing that from Santana's mouth…

Shaking her head constantly with vacant, lost eyes, she mumbled incoherently, "I – I can't… I have… breathe…" And she swiftly got up from bed and started to walk wobbly towards the bedroom door. That was not how her day was supposed to go. That was not how her day was supposed to go at all; Brittany thought as her world came crashing down on her.

Santana was also at a loss. It was raining outside and the departing woman before her was completely drenched. She didn't want to particularly continue that talk, but she couldn't just let her leave. At least not like that; in and into that state.

"Brittany, wait," Santana said from her place in bed, but Brittany kept moving and opened up the door. She needed air and she needed right then. "Brittany, for crying out loud…" Santana huffed a bit louder, getting out of bed when she saw that her calling out wasn't working.

The voices woke up Poppy, who darted towards Santana by the bedside as the woman put on her pink fluffy slippers – a Christmas gift from Zoey.

"Stay!" Santana ordered the Beagle while she followed Brittany out the bedroom. Surprisingly enough the dog obeyed.

"Brittany, stop. It's still raining outside," Santana soberly said as she continued following the blonde through the second floor's hallway. It fell on deaf ears. Frankly, Brittany was too frantic to listen to anything other than her rapid beating heart.

"Madre de Dios… You're soaking wet, Britt! You're gonna catch your death," Santana continued with freshly-found exasperation as both women trotted down the staircase.

The brunette was losing her little patience in face of Brittany's sudden silent treatment. She absolutely loathed those when it came to a certain blonde someone. The dancer was in the wrong and she _still_ managed to act out on her. So, she unabashedly voiced her thoughts when they reached the foyer, "I don't know why you're acting like this. I mean, you _chose_ this, Brittany. You chose _her_, and then you waited too long and now you're stuck with that choice..." millisecond pause "…Or lack thereof. We're _both_ stuck with it now. It's not _my_ fault."

Brittany had her hand around the front door's handle; she needed to respond to that accusation badly but she needed a whiff of fresh air the most, otherwise she was at risk of fainting right there at Santana's foyer. She was so lightheaded at the moment. So, opening up the door and catching some much needed air, Brittany turned around to Santana and shot back indignantly, "Why people –" She cut herself off with a shake of her head, but continued on another more pressing line of thought. "A _choice_? I didn't have a _fucking_ choice, Santana!" Brittany finished loudly; the tips of her ears and neck all tinged in a pink flush.

And with that Brittany really needed air, as in all around her. And space, lots of wide open space to quell the ever-growing feeling of claustrophobia and hotness building inside of her. So, she left the house and stepped into the rain.

Santana stood there at the bottom of the stairs, wide-eyed and a little bit shocked with the outburst. Brittany rarely cursed. And when she said rarely she really meant _rarely_ – excluding amidst moments of passion, of course. Really, Santana could count on one single hand the number of times she had heard Brittany utter a profanity in all the years they had spent together as friends and lovers. And she didn't even need all the hand's fingers to do so.

Shaking away the shock, Santana was left with only her _own_ indignation, which was fuel enough to make her follow Brittany out in the rain. Clearly the brunette's state of mind had also flown out of the window.

"Of course you had a choice, Brittany!" Santana said just as loudly to Brittany's back. The other woman hadn't gone far. She just stood there directly in front of her ex-wife's door, breathing in deeply and getting washed down by the rain pouring from the sky. At least it wasn't raining as heavily as when she ran to Santana's place.

Brittany turned around sharply, a bit startled by the sudden voice. Santana stood just a few steps away from her.

"Stupidly enough I put myself out there… _again_… For you, Britt," Santana continued, speaking as frankly as her own reservations allowed her to while raindrops started to cling to her night clothes. Unsavoury flashbacks of the two of them having it at that exact same spot months ago were running through her head.

Crystal blue eyes held brown ones with attention. "You had _me_, and you had _her_ in front of you… and you stayed with her. So, don't stand in front of me and tell me you '_didn't have a fucking choice_', because you did. _I_ didn't have one, and yet I kept choosing you. But now… now I have to choose me. You left me no other choice, Brittany," she concluded resolutely in one single breath before taking in another long, deep one to steady herself.

Brittany took a few steps forward and countered in a much calmer voice than before, "But I didn't have. Not anymore." She sighed and ran a hand through wet blonde locks before adding dejectedly, "By then I was married, Santana, and I had made a commitment… I couldn't just turn my back and walk away without at least trying. So, you see, you were no longer an option, San..." her blue icy eyes were so pleading, sad, honest, and wistful that Santana had to look away for a second, "…You just _couldn't_ be," Brittany finished in a whisper as she managed to grab a hold of those dark orbs again to try to convey silently the '_Can't you see it?_' question that was implicitly etched upon her very soul.

Did Santana comprehend it? Sure. Did she _see_ and _agree_ with it? Never. It was a weird thing… She and Brittany had been so on the same page about things through the many years they spent together that it was indeed weird not only for her but for both of them to experience this strange shift at that exact moment in time. And all it took was one glance towards Santana's eyes for Brittany to know that the other woman did _not_ see it.

So, it didn't come as a surprise when Santana spoke with attempted-but-failed aloofness while petulantly, and characteristically, placing one hand on her hip, "Well, whatever you need to believe to help you sleep at night."

They fell silent for a short while as the rain was the only noise heard in the quiet neighborhood. It was really, _really_ early in the morning and there was no sign of people movement outside the nearby houses. _Thank God for small favours…_ But Brittany wasn't about to go down without a fight. This was too important to simply quit without saying everything it was needed to be said and discussed. All of this had been a long time coming.

"If it really is _that_ important to you I really had already decided to end things with Jenna last night... When I kissed you," Brittany broke down the silence, taking another step towards Santana. They were face-to-face by then.

"Well, now we'll never know for sure, will we?" Santana countered immediately, wiping some intruding rain from her eye. The mention of the kiss only served to revive some angry feelings from the previous night.

"What do you mean?" Brittany challenged just as promptly, tone a bit perplexed but still reflecting the benefit of the doubt. Was Santana insinuating what Brittany thought she was insinuating?

Not one to mince words Santana replied honestly, "I meant what I just said: I'll never know for sure." And then, after receiving a sharp look from Brittany, she bitterly added for good measure, "Saying, or thinking, or whatever it is that you did, are completely different things from _actually_ doing it, Brittany. How –"

It was Brittany's time to cut the brunette off. Santana had already managed to offend her with those doubting words. There was no need to keep going at it. "_I_ am telling you that I had made up my mind. _That's_ how you know for sure," Brittany said firmly, holding dark orbs in a fierce assertive manner. And then, after reigning over her indignation and without missing a beat, she concluded more softly, "You know we never lie to each other."

Brittany's words – and especially the look in her eyes – managed to knock some sense into Santana's thick head. Inside she knew them to be true… _but_ she wasn't ready to drop the bone. That's just who _she_ was.

"We never _used_ to," Santana corrected plainly, changing her stance by crossing her arms over her chest and tilting her head up a bit. Typical self-defense pose for the brunette, Brittany couldn't help but note. "You sure lied right to my face yesterday," Santana continued with purpose.

Brittany sighed heavily whilst shaking her head and placing her own hands on each side of her hip. Santana was so, so, _so_ stubborn... It was infuriating at times. And Brittany knew exactly what the other woman was referring to. Santana had made the same accusation last night.

"Like I told you last night I didn't lie to you, Santana," Brittany explained sincerely, trying to remain as calm as possible whilst her heart raced with anxiety. "I never regretted kissing you," she added, reinforcing the eye contact. She knew Santana knew her eyes never deceived. "I regretted not ending things properly with Jenna _before_ doing so. And I would have told you exactly that if you had given me the chance instead of storming away all mad," Brittany amended, dropping her hands from her hips.

Santana held Brittany's gaze for as long as she could, which wasn't that much. _God, those eyes…_ The brunette let her arms drop from her chest as well, she knew Brittany to be true. Deep down Santana had _always_ known, despite the certainty being polluted at times by other less than agreeable feelings, like anger and frustration.

As the wheels in Santana's mind worked, Brittany finished in tandem with it, "I'd _never_ lie to you."

Santana brought her eyes back up. "I know," she replied with frank conviction.

Silence yet again settled between them, but less heavy than before. Although a few bags have been cast into the ocean, there was no denying that the many others still onboard had that ship sinking. There was simply too much baggage to be ignored.

Besides, lying was not really the point.

So, Santana broke the silence with her gentle and wistful words, "I warned you, Britt..." She took a deep breath through the rain while running a hand through damp hair. She kept eye contact, though; she wanted her utter sincerity to show, too. "I _told_ you to say what you really wanted. But you sat on your hands, and now…" she trailed off with sheer despondency, shaking her head almost in an imperceptive manner.

Santana didn't actually utter the ominous two words _'too late'_ back at that movie theater many moons ago, nor did she utter them now. And she didn't have to really. It was plenty implied and, again, some harsh realities are better left unsaid.

Brittany took that in. She _really_ took that in. Suddenly it became all too clear to her that Santana had made up her mind. She would not budge. Breathing immediately became an issue yet again. Brittany knew the woman before her better than she knew anyone else in the entire world, and when Santana's heavy stubbornness met her unwavering pride… Suffice to say: it did not look good, in fact, that was it.

"So, that's it?" Brittany countered with a hint of despair in her voice, even though she was trying hard not to let it show through. And then she continued weakly, holding Santana's stare with so much love in her eyes whilst delivering one last desperate plea, "You're gonna let…" small disconcertment-induced pause "…_timing_ keep us apart?"

It wasn't like it never happened before for them; bad timing, that is. In fact it happened a lot. When Brittany wanted Santana the brunette was so deep in denial that she denied Brittany; then, when Santana actually made an attempt to try and be real to herself and went after Brittany the blonde had to reject her because she was already with someone else. And then when they were both actually available, Santana yet again relapsed into the fear zone. Textbook screwed-up timing, even if it happened ages ago. However, _one_ thing never wavered or altered throughout their mischances: Santana and Brittany had always remained deeply in love with each other.

Santana looked down again. At times like these she couldn't handle how Brittany looked at her. It had always puzzled the brunette how Brittany could always manage to still look at her like _that_ after so many years.

Brushing the feeling off – it really had no place in a moment like that – Santana shrugged and replied dismissively with as much conviction as she could muster, "Sillier things have: stupid boys, stupid fears, stupid bleedings in the brain…" she hesitated a bit to deliver the next item, as she always did with low blows, but in the end nature always overthrew conditioning "…stupid morals…" Santana trailed on, facing hurt blue pools head-on. And it stung the brunette; but didn't make said things any less true or any less _not_ stupid _whatsoever,_ however you spun it.

The not-so-little zing hit Brittany harshly. Her heart sank with overpowering intensity. _So that was that to Santana? She, Brittany, single-handedly ruined everything for them?_ The dancer wouldn't lie; the insistent repetition of that word she hated didn't help to soothe the blow either, and she couldn't help but be aware that Santana was _also_ aware of that hurtful fact. It didn't surprise her though. Santana never did know quite how to pull back punches. Brittany was just unused to being the target. Frankly, she didn't like it one bit.

Everything _really_ had gone so very differently from what Brittany had in mind when she took off running to Santana's… She felt desolated and couldn't help but state in a cracked voice, "But… I love you." It was a truth that seemed so tangible and indelible to her that Brittany couldn't comprehend why this whole thing was going south. It was like adding one to one and coming up with three. And she wasn't even good at mathematics, but even she knew this felt utterly wrong.

Santana's eyes softened again, and she was obligated by her body to take a deep breath. _God, this conversation was hard…_ She loved Brittany, too. Brittany was actually the only person she had ever loved, and Santana knew that fact would remain the same for as long as she shall live. _But_ she also didn't feel like saying _that_ to the other woman at that particular moment. So, she opted for one of her many defense tactics: evasion.

"Love was never really our problem, was it?" Santana asked softly but matter-of-factly, her eyes still glued to Brittany's with fierceness. Because, even though she wouldn't say it back right then, she would never deny it either.

Brittany shook her head morosely; she felt emotionally spent, and yet she still managed to muster up a teeny tiny smile at the indirect love confession. Despite the circumstances it still felt really nice to know it – not that she had ever doubted it.

"No," Brittany replied weakly while still shaking her head, even though it had been a rhetorical question she felt the need to answer. When the other shoe dropped and Brittany perceived the other fact implied in Santana's speech, that love was always there _but_ in that particular case it wasn't enough, she suddenly felt like crying, or pouting, or both… but she did none. She wouldn't do that to Santana. She would not be _that_ woman. So, Brittany held on strongly and maintained the intense eye-contact. "Never," she concluded soundly, little smile long gone from thin lips.

Santana couldn't take the desolated look spread on Brittany's face anymore. She took a step forward, rendering the space between them truly small and Brittany's heart a mess of rapid heartbeats due to the closeness, and poured out, "You know, maybe this is for the best. Maybe with all this… _stuff_ that's happening to us, the universe is trying to tell us something… maybe it's trying to tell us that this is not meant to be. That _we're_ not really meant to be."

Talk about a cold shower. Once again that was not what Brittany was expecting at all.

"You don't believe that," Brittany countered matter-of-factly with slightly furrowed eyebrows and a tinge of indignation. There was just no way Santana truly believed that… _nonsense_.

However, Santana was on a roll within that particular train of thought. She barely registered what Brittany had said, but she did register it on some level. The brunette's rationalization had overtaken her rationality, though. Reason and truth were a bit hazy at that moment.

So, Santana continued resolutely, her eyes not locked on blue orbs any longer as her 'epiphany' took off, "Maybe the real reason why the powers that be ever got us together was to create Zoey. Maybe that was our purpose." Santana nodded at her own words whilst Brittany shook her head. "I mean, I can think of _lots_ of less perfect and amazing destinies than our little girl, can't you?" She finished soundly, satisfied with her conclusion as brown eyes landed on Brittany's troubled ones again.

Ignoring the question, Brittany shot back with _real_ indignation that time around, "And you've never believed in _destiny_ either." Softening her tone, she added in question, "Where is this coming from, San?"

It was Santana's turn to be taken by surprise. She thought that she had made perfect sense. And all of a sudden some mild irritation started to bubble inside her at Brittany's words. She really hated when people tried to tell her how _she_ felt, or what _she_ believed in. So what if she had repeatedly said in the past that stuff like _destiny_ was complete bullshit? That everyone makes their own fate but refuse to own up to it when things go downhill? Can't a person change her mind? Speculate a bit? Seek some reasoning to all this crap? God, sometimes she hated how Brittany knew her too damn well!

So, Santana shrugged in annoyance for good measure and opened up her mouth to reply, but remained caught in that position as Brittany beat her to it.

"You know what? It doesn't really matter," Brittany said calmly and softly, holding up a hand to further convey her words while shaking her head. It was the blonde's time to experience her own epiphany. "Because the way I see this… The way I see all this _'stuff that's happening to us'_ – as you put it – is just the _complete_ opposite of how you see it," Brittany continued in the same tone, holding Santana's reluctant and confused gaze as a small wistful smile played on her lips. "I think this is _finally_ my chance for a do-over," she concluded in a hopeful intonation.

"I don't know what you mean," Santana replied offhandedly, placing one hand on her hip with exasperation. Brittany was making no sense whatsoever right after having had the nerve to shoot down her flawless reasoning seconds earlier.

"Deep down I always regretted not waiting," Brittany practically whispered earnestly, looking briefly at her colourful sneakers but ultimately managing to maintain their gazes locked. "Especially after that phone call… _God_, I'll never forget that exact instant I was standing in the kitchen making Zoey's snack for school and they called me to say you had woken up, San," Brittany continued in an emotionally charged whisper.

They remained locked in that sincere silent stare for a while. Not that they weren't used to it, but so much was being exchanged with that single look that Santana had to take a big dry swallow. And just then she firstly realized that Brittany was wearing her Columbia t-shirt. Again, it wasn't something new. Ever since she gave it to the dancer Santana had seen her wearing it numerous times but, right at that moment, she felt a most wrenching tightness in her chest area... More precisely in her heart. Yes, for those who doubted it, she clearly had one; the thought breezed through her mind.

"I never blamed you for that, B," Santana finally managed to utter in the same gentle tone as Brittany had spoken seconds ago, making the blonde's heart swell at the use of the nickname.

And it was the absolute truth. She never blamed Brittany for trying to carry on with her life, for trying to find some happiness when everything severely indicated that she wouldn't wake up. Come on, after she woke up she had seen her medical file; she had gone over all the scans and data more times than she would ever let anyone know. Her being here, and fully functioning at that, was nothing shorter than a miracle. One that Santana still found herself losing sleep over every once in a dark day just… wondering _why_.

Santana did blame Brittany though for not taking her back when she _did_ wake up, but that was already said, done, and discussed… They just would never see eye-to-eye on the matter.

"But _I_ did," Brittany countered without missing a beat; the weight of her words, and the sheer conviction on her tone of voice made Santana's heart clench rather unpleasantly.

Brittany knew they would never see eye-to-eye on that, but this? _This_ was the thing that kept pulling down at her heart, _this_ was the thing that had always lingered on the back of her mind eating at her, and she just _had_ to bear it _all_ out. It was right then… or never, and the latter wasn't really an option for the woman who has always carried her heart on her sleeve.

"I lost hope," Brittany continued heavily, letting her eyes stray a bit to the floor due to an awful mix of embarrassment and regret. "I believed in what they said about you not waking up and I lost hope." She swallowed dryly, eyes back on soft brown orbs.

"But you have to understand, right after your surgery…" Brittany shook her head slightly, emotions getting too high as her ramble got broken by them. "I was… a mess, San. A _total_ mess..." She emitted this eerie little chuckle. "I barely went to our apartment. I spent every hour at your bedside just holding your hand, and everything felt really surreal. I couldn't believe or even register properly that that awful thing was happening to us. _Us_. I didn't feel like eating, I couldn't sleep more than a couple of hours a night, people kept talking to me but I couldn't assimilate what exactly they were saying… Our parents and friends were really, really worried," she continued softly, taking a short breath as Santana attentively hung on her every word. "I didn't want to tell you any of this before. I didn't want you to have to see this bleak picture, but a part of me can't shake this feeling that you think that I just up and left you. That I didn't feel absolutely destroyed and –"

Santana was a bit taken aback by the opening of Brittany's floodgate. Taken aback and filled with… empathy. From the looks of it, and from her extensive knowledge of all things Brittany, she knew the woman's need to speak had reached a boiling point of no return. _However_, she simply had to interject.

"I don't think –" Santana cut her off in a slightly louder and resolute voice. But didn't she? In the deepest parts of her, didn't a wee seed of doubt dare to want to germinate despite of better reason?

Brittany was having none of that, though. She needed _that_ out, too; perhaps not only for Santana's sake, but for her own as well. Perhaps saying it out loud would also annihilate her own ludicrous little seed.

"Jimmy had to carry me out of your hospital room because I wouldn't leave… literally _carry_ me out of there one evening," Brittany softly continued her sad rambling account, her voice surprisingly calm and even. Some things like certainty and purpose always show through people's tone. "John told my parents I was clinically depressed. Like you needed to be a psychiatrist to see that," she added with contrived amusement, making Santana wince beyond her will but still holding that piercing blue gaze.

A silent moment passed between them as Brittany rapidly blinked her eyes like those dreadful memories were actually flashing before them, and maybe they were. But she had to drive her point home. She _needed_ to.

"I think they discussed putting me on anti-depressants despite the pregnancy but, as out as I may have been, I would never do anything to risk _our_ baby," Brittany added genuinely. Santana felt her hand rising on its own accord, with full intent to cup a pale cheek. She caught herself in time, though, letting it fall limp back to her side.

"And it was because of her that I forced myself to push through. I needed to. She was you, S… and she was me, too. She was _us_," Brittany stated with conviction and a little bittersweet smile on her lips, "So, I ate when I didn't feel like it, and I slept when sleep was the last thing on my mind, and I swam back up. Because that was what it felt like; I felt like I was floating at the bottom of the sea. Numb to the world. But Zoey was up there at the surface. She completely depended on me. I wouldn't fail her. I wouldn't fail _you_. I couldn't." She shook her head morosely. "So, I swam back up," Brittany repeated herself.

"But what I didn't quite realize at the time was that I lost something on the way to the surface. I lost it, San. I don't know, it must have fallen from my pocket or something," she continued in Brittany fashion, but Santana got her and it made the brunette gulp dryly. "All I know is hope was not there anymore," Brittany began to drive her point home with loaded candidness.

"Britt, I…" Santana tried in a weak tone, but she didn't know what exactly she wanted to say. So, the words naturally trailed on in the humid air of the early raining morning.

"It's okay, it's okay, San," Brittany talked over Santana's attempt to form a sentence, the little smile back to her pink lips. "Like I was saying this is my second chance. This is as close to a time machine I'll ever get," she joked with a weak chuckle. "I lost hope back then, but I won't do it again this time…" She shook her head to reinforce her speech.

Santana watched her with sudden enlightenment. Right at that instant she got it. The whole thing clicked in her head. She knew where Brittany was going with that.

"I'll wait for you Santana," Brittany said with so much… love and conviction that Santana's heart began to beat really quickly despite her will. "I should have done it back then. I shouldn't have listened to anyone…" Brittany added a little bit louder due to momentum, and she fought with all she had not to cry. Again, she wouldn't be _that_ woman.

"I should have known you would come back to me, because I'd _always_ come back to you, too," Brittany earnestly finished her winded speech with a wistfulness that cut deep, and then took a deep breath. "So, I'll wait for you, San," the dancer couldn't help but repeat for good measure.

Santana would be lying if she said Brittany's little monologue didn't get to her. It did, and she had to take several deep breaths throughout it. However, this was where they stood and no matter how both of them had things they wished they would have done differently… they did not. And her pride was bigger than words.

"I wouldn't wait if I were you," Santana replied after a few seconds, and it came out snappier than she intended, so she amended quickly and much softer, "I wouldn't, Britt." Her eyes plummeted to the ground, unable to see the consequence of her words on Brittany's eyes.

"But I will," Brittany countered calmly and 100% surely. Her eyes weren't hurt. No matter what Santana said Brittany was certain of her stance. This time around no one would persuade her otherwise, not even her ex. She wasn't about to make the same mistake twice. People always thought she was stupid, but she sure learned her lessons.

"I'll wait forever for you," Brittany stated with sheer certainty, driving brown eyes to blue ones.

Santana was surprised to see conviction instead of hurt on the other woman's gaze, let alone the little smile that crept on Brittany's lips. It threw her off-balance for a bit, but she recovered quickly. She was a Lopez after all, and they always did.

"Don't," Santana reiterated, but it came out weak and half-assed to her dissatisfaction. But, at least, she managed to speak up. It was enough for her at the time considering her inner turmoil of feelings. And it was common knowledge that feelings were never her forte.

Brittany could clearly sense Santana's torn state; how the brunette was battling against what she really wanted, and what who she was commanded her to want. Santana's complexity, despite its downsides, never failed to amaze and enchant Brittany.

So, a moment of introspective silence fell on both of them.

Brittany broke it though. "You may hate me now, but I'll remember to love you," she softly said with a wry smile, toying with the hem of _her_ Columbia t-shirt. Memories of yesterday flooding her mind once again, especially that haunting tune Santana sang and those brown eyes… that had been so filled with anger and raw emotion. The dancer's heart ached at the thought.

"I don't hate you," Santana genuinely replied ever-so-softly, locking their gaze to convey pure sincerity. Her sharp edge dropped immediately at Brittany's erroneous deduction. "You are my best friend, my baby Mommy..." she playfully added with a charming smile. It makes her dimple show to Brittany's inward delight. "I could never hate you, Britt-Britt..." The sweet nickname that hadn't been used in the longest time by Santana touched Brittany to the core.

"Not for this, anyway," Santana amended, because she didn't want to be untruthful. After all, she could hate Brittany if the woman ever did something deliberately and unapologetically to hurt her. Which the brunette knew, in reality, would never _ever_ happen. Said behaviour just wasn't _Brittany_.

They exchanged a tight-lipped and comfortable smile, despite its tired nature. Brittany felt like a huge weight had been lifted from her weary heart; Santana's harsh eyes directed at her last night really left her feeling… awful.

"We'll be fine, you'll see. All we need is time…" Santana continued in a reassuring tone.

"I'll give you all the time you need," Brittany shot back instantly, meaning every single word as she held the other woman's gaze. Smile still in place. Their standoff was intensely soft at that moment.

Santana wasn't exactly finished though. "And space," she offhandedly added to her previous sentence. "That's why I decided to actually go ahead with the move to New York in the first place," she continued calmly, simplifying to an extent her thought process from the previous night.

Brittany felt like a hard punch had been directly delivered against her stomach. The air was completely… _gone_ from her lungs; her smile instantly dropped like a hot piece of coal. Plus, to top it off, her heart began to _thud, thud, thud_ like crazy.

"You're still going?" She managed to ask faintly, her eyes rapidly blinking several times with shock. She actually had meant to say _'really'_ instead of _'still'_. Freudian slips always had a way to take you down.

"Of course," Santana countered in a clipped voice, brows furrowed slightly. Brittany's question clearly irritated her.

"B-but why?" Brittany stuttered barely above a whisper. "You don't have to anymore. Jenna and I –" she tried to reverse that terrible decision.

Santana cut her off immediately. The sound of that woman's name amplifying her irritation. "You know that's not the point, Brittany. Surely you must know that," she said flatly, tucking a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear. That's when she realized it wasn't raining anymore. Sometime along their conversation it had stopped. She didn't even know exactly when.

Brittany found Santana's eyes and she just felt… desolated. Completely, and utterly, desolated. Her so-called-plan from last night clearly had failed in _all_ levels, even in the most elementary one. She swallowed with difficult; her mouth suddenly very dry.

Taking in Brittany's stunned look and involuntary silence, Santana continued more softly with the need to elaborate. "I miss New York, I miss our friends, and my real job…" she listed the less consequential things, softening the real blow. "Last night…" Santana faltered, taking a deep breath to calm her and gain courage as Brittany watched her with utmost attention, "…Last night really scared me. I was really angry, Britt. I told you a while back that I don't want to be that person anymore. I said I would try to stay here, but I can't. I was right; it only brought out the worst part of me. I should have just moved to New York back then." She locked eyes with the dancer after having looked everywhere but those ocean orbs.

"Trust me, it will be the best for Zoey and for us," Santana finished in a gentle emotional tone.

Breaking their locked gaze, Brittany replied weakly while looking to the ground to avoid spilling her welled up tears, "I disagree with you."

"I guess we'll just have to agree to disagree, then," Santana stated earnestly, unconsciously placing one hand on her hip for some sort of support. "We leave by the end of this semester," the brown-eyed woman added, making Brittany wince at the pronoun used.

Riley would graduate from her nursing course mid-year, and she had already given her notice at Flame, the club she worked at. The redhead was ecstatic that Santana had finally decided to join her on the move to New York.

"I'm giving Richard my notice first thing tomorrow. I know it's early, but it will take him a while to find someone else suitable for the job. He has been so great to me… he deserves the courtesy. When I was back in New York the guys said I was always welcome to get back to the practice. Even if it was just lip service I'm sure I can find somewhere else to work at…" brief pause to breathe, "…And I'll see what Jimmy's new lady friend can find me on the real estate market. I'll call him tomorrow to set it up with her. I know it's short notice, so I won't be able to be too picky but, uh, I'll be happy with any two-bedroom she can track down, you know, Zoey must have her own room. And it has to be in the city, of course," Santana rambled on as she shifted her weight between both feet, feeling nervous all of the sudden for some reason.

Brittany tried to steady her frantic heartbeat by taking big, deep breaths through her nose. _Santana really was going through with that…_ She pondered sadly. Once the woman put something in her head there was no turning back. Santana was _that_ stubborn, and Brittany knew it.

It wasn't raining anymore. Brittany hadn't even realized it before then. After yet another short and introspective moment of silence, Brittany came back down from her conflicting thoughts and feelings.

"Are you two going to live together?"

"No, _no_," Santana replied twice, shaking her head repeatedly. She shouldn't feel this uneasiness inside whilst doing it, and yet she did. She owed the blonde absolutely nothing on this regard. _God damn me!_ Came to Santana's mind. She pushed through it, adding with some self-induced irritation, "This isn't about me following her, or she following me. She was headed to New York before we even met. I think she's living with one of her brother's sister-in-law or something like that."

Brittany couldn't help the relief that immediately washed through her body, whether it was her place or not to feel it.

Gathering her courage Brittany managed to ask _the_ question that burned through her mind, body and soul in a steady – but undemanding – voice, "Do you love her?"

Feeling like she needed – scratch that – _owned_ herself, really, to spell the name, Brittany expanded, "Riley." It did not taste good in her mouth.

None of this was about Riley. It never was about _Gemma_ either. Didn't Brittany see that? The brunette sighed heavily.

Santana merely narrowed her eyes a bit, and fixed a pointed gaze towards those blue eyes before her. Brittany always did have some nerve, that was for sure… but she also always did know better than that. She knew the answer to that question and Santana didn't feel like entertaining her ex at that particular moment. So, she let her eyes do the whole talking and, apparently, Brittany got it. Not that Santana ever doubted she would. They had spoken silently through stares for too many years to lose the ability then.

Brittany wasn't ready to let up, though. "Are you happy?" She asked in the same tone. It was some sort of morbid curiosity that she didn't know how to turn off.

This time Santana promptly countered, her voice poised with a lifetime of practice and her head held a bit higher on instinct, "I'm happy enough." It wasn't a lie, it wasn't the truth… She had always been a master at word-play.

Brittany didn't buy it (_who was the liar there, huh?_), but she didn't call Santana out on it either. Perhaps because guilt still ran a little through her veins. However, despite the fact that her plan had been shot down to a pulp, her recently reacquired hope didn't fail her, drowning any other shit that dared to course through her blood vessels alongside from it. The feeling was ever-so-empowering. No time or space in the world held a candle to her hope.

"Besides, nobody dies of broken hearts," Santana cynically amended with less sass, feeling a bit taken aback by Brittany's lack of response thus readily covering the silence with that topic's rehashing. Maybe she wasn't ready after all to let that one go, or maybe she was. Santana wasn't very sure at that instant.

"We'll survive…" the brunette added candidly – but still cynically – for good measure, unwilling to bear any more uncomfortable dead-air.

"I know. I know that…" Brittany said simply, with a conviction that overflew through her eyes. And with a genuine wise nature that was just so… _fucking_ typical of Brittany she amended softly, with a wee hint of a hopeful smile playing on her pink lips, "But, don't you want to live?" Tiny pause filled with overcharged air. "Don't you want to _really_ live again, San?" Because Brittany so _desperately_ craved that: to have her life – her _real_ life that she loved so much – back.

Wow, that really got to Santana. It always amazed her how damn… _emotionally acute_ her wife, ex-wife, actually was. So, right there with their gazes locked, Santana shifted her weight back and forth between two feet with a heavy heart at what she had to say.

"I'm afraid this is the best I can do under the circumstances, Britt," Santana said tiredly, consciously evading the real question.

Brittany nodded slowly several times, taking the rebuttal oh-so-graciously. Despite the big 'ouch' moment she kept the little hopeful smile on her lips, which Santana was very grateful for.

A comfortable silence took them by the hand as they digested everything and nothing at once. It appeared like there was nothing left to say.

But (unfortunately?) it wasn't quite the case.

"I – I, huh…" Santana began a bit choppy, suddenly feeling slightly distracted by Brittany's gorgeous eyes. Why did the woman have to have such a mesmerizing and piercing blue stare? It wasn't really fair on Santana. She briefly wondered if it would be too weird to ask Brittany to look the other way for a while. _Yeah… it would definitely be weird_; she gathered just as the thought passed through her mind.

Shaking the idea off, Santana continued her broken speech, "Actually, I – I have to ask you something, B." At least she managed to hold the _feared_ stare.

Moving her body the tiniest bit forward, Brittany replied with confidence, "_Anything_. You know that."

_Jesus, it still felt so, so nice to hear that_; Santana immediately thought… but dismissed it just as quickly whilst her eyes drifted briefly to her driveway's floor.

Looking the dancer square in the eyes, Santana uttered point-blank the words she had been dreading to speak, "I need you to let me let you go."

It was the last thing that Brittany expected to hear. And, frankly, she did a crappy job at disguising the hurt look that took over her features. Because, it hurt… Those words hurt really badly. But, yet again, she picked herself up and tried to keep her present serene state of mind. Despair never did her any good. Again, she had learned.

Santana flinched at Brittany's passing painful expression. This hurt her too; she wanted to tell the dancer. It would be pointless and futile though. She knew that, so Santana didn't. The truth of the matter was that she didn't need a pretty boy with a ukulele to teach her that you always hurt the one you love.

Brittany was about to respond but Santana, taking the blonde's silence, beat her to it as she amended softly and frankly, "It's the only way all of this will work." It was a rare moment of display of vulnerability from the brunette, and she crossed her tan arms across her chest reflexively.

"I don't think I know how to, San," Brittany said just as softly and just as frankly, scratching her colourful sneaker against the driveway's floor. "Because I myself never did, you know." She paused a bit as their eyes exchanged something rather hard to describe. "Despite… _everything_, I never did let _you_ go. And I don't think I ever will." Brittany punctuated her sentence with a nervous and bittersweet little chuckle.

Santana took a slow, deep breath in sympathy. Why did that – all of that – have to be so _fucking_ hard? And, sympathy aside, what was she supposed to reply to that? Man, Brittany couldn't say stuff like that to her right then! Not right then.

Brittany sensed Santana's disposition. So, she continued evenly, "I'll give you time... I'll give you all the time you want, S. And, even though I don't agree with you, I'll try to give and respect the space you need, too. I can't promise you I'll succeed, and I won't say it won't be hard, but I'll do my best. For you."

Brittany _again_ fought the tears that dared to well up in her eyes at the grandiosity of the moment. There were just so many emotions coursing through her body. But her hope was what kept her steady. She'd wait for the love of her life; this was her second chance, and she wouldn't blow it.

"Thank you," Santana said sincerely while uncrossing her arms, putting her previous frustration on the back burner for the moment.

"I'm still not giving up, though," Brittany blurted out quickly, afraid that she could have been misunderstood. "I'll wait for you, Santana," she added with determination and a welcomed sense of righteousness.

"I heard you the first time, Britt," Santana replied promptly, bringing her frustration back to front and center. However, despite herself, the brunette felt some warm and fuzzy feeling gathering around her heart at that notion. Obviously, Santana ignored it with every fiber of her being. She wasn't the type of woman who allowed herself to be burned _twice_. "And, like I said, you shouldn't," she carried on for her own inner-benefit.

"I don't care. I will. I won't lose hope, because you're here right in front of me. Walking, and talking, and… I will wait forever," Brittany shot back resolutely. She could be stubborn, too, you see.

An awkward silence fell upon them. There really was nothing left to say at the moment. _Really_.

Feeling uncomfortable, Santana broke it. "I should…" she trailed off, pointing her thumb back towards the house to indicate what she meant.

"Yeah, yeah, sure…" Brittany said while nodding with a contrived little smile on her thin lips. "I should also, huh, go to Zoey at my parents," she completed awkwardly.

"Do you need a ride, or…" Santana trailed off with uncertainty, rubbing at the back of her neck.

"No, no, I'm good," Brittany dismissed it with a weak wave of hand. "It stopped raining now," she chuckled nervously, "I'll walk. You know it isn't far."

Santana nodded absentmindedly. She made no protest about it. Nothing along the lines that Brittany would catch a cold or her death walking around on soaked clothes. It was a little thing, but the dancer unfortunately noticed.

The brunette woman shot Brittany a final tight-lipped ghost of a smile, and turned around headed to her house. Let Brittany watch _her_ walk away for once. After a couple of steps, though, she heard the dancer's voice.

"My heart broke, too, you know?" Brittany said tenderly and matter-of-factly to her ex wife's back.

Santana turned her neck to steal a glance at Brittany just in time to catch this… _killer_ wistful wry smile on the blonde's lips. Santana didn't say anything, though. She didn't doubt it. In fact, she bet it did. But it still didn't change anything. So, she knowingly nodded a couple of times and resumed her short walk to her house.

Brittany, standing completely still, watched intently the other woman go until Santana entered the house. Then, she sighed, turned around, and started walking slowly to her parents' place. _I will turn this around, I will turn this around…_ she kept repeating in her mind, but it didn't quite stop her heart from sinking in the most gut-wrenching way. This did not turn out the way she thought it would. _At all_. But she would fight.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile Jenna stood in front of the door of a small house with her suitcase by her feet. She was mustering up enough courage to knock. It was a really indecent early hour of the day. Finally having gathered up enough nerve, she knocked three times in a row and waited. Seconds passed – that felt like hours in her shaken up state – and nobody answered; so, she knocked the same number of times again. A little louder, though. A minute later she heard a key twisting on the lock and a sleepy-looking Paula opening the door seconds later.<p>

Rubbing her eyes vigorously to adjust her blurry vision, the chubby brunette fixed her gaze on her distressed friend. Jenna had really red eyes and nose; it was clear that she had been crying.

"Jenna?" Paula rhetorically asked in a rough voice. "What happened? What are you doing here at this hour?"

Just after she said that she noticed the suitcase by the blonde's feet. Her mind was still impaired by its abrupt awakening, but she started to guess the real story there.

"Brittany and I – we're…" Jenna failed to complete her sentence, being taken over by a stream of sneaky tears. "I've moved out. My marriage, it's –" she still couldn't really say it.

Paula, however, did not need to hear anymore.

"Oh, Jenna," she replied softly and sympathetically, placing an arm over her friend's shoulders and ushering her inside, closing the door behind them.

Jenna dropped her suitcase near the entrance before both women silently started to make their way towards the slightly beaten-down couch. They slowly sat down and Paula decided to break the heavy silence while Jenna rubbed her eyes trying to get rid of the tears.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Paula asked in a low voice.

The green-eyed woman sort of ignored the question, and posed one of her own, "Can I crash here? It will only be for a while, until I figure stuff out."

"Of course. For as long as you need to," the brunette replied promptly, soothingly stroking her friend's knee in comfort.

She waited some time to see whether Jenna would answer her former question, but she didn't. So, the shorter woman felt the need to ask.

"Jenna, should I call your sponsor?" Paula enquired in the less judgmental tone ever. She knew about her friend's history, and she also knew that situations exactly such as those were ideal triggers for slips. She didn't want that for her friend. Not at all.

"No," Jenna replied without missing a beat, finding Paula's dark gaze for the first time since they had sat down.

"Are you sure?" Paula asked softly, holding the stare.

"No," Jenna conceded in defeat, lowering her gaze to her lap again. She didn't feel like she would relapse. In fact she was certain of it, but she has had that disease for a long time and she knew better than to underestimate it. Better safe than sorry. Always.

"Alright. I'll give him a quick call. Just wait for me a sec, ok?" Paula said still in a hushed tone, offering her friend a tight-lipped smile as she departed to her kitchen to make the call. She knew Jenna's sponsor. Lyle had become a good friend over the years she had known the blonde.

True to her word as fast as she went she came back, bringing a glass of water to calm her friend. Or so she hoped.

After handing the glass over, and assuring Jenna Lyle would be right over, Paula asked again, "So, ready to talk about it?"

"Something happened and… I just couldn't ignore it anymore," Jenna spoke frankly after taking a long gulp of the clear liquid.

"Ignore what?" Paula asked with confusion.

"That she didn't love me anymore," the blonde clarified despondently, yet bluntly. She thought of adding 'or ever', but that was too much truth to display even for a straightforward person such as herself.

"Did she cheat on you?" Paula couldn't hold her question.

"No."

"Then what 'something' happened?"

"It wasn't just one thing," Jenna said and sighed right after, running a hand through her hair before chugging down the rest of the water. "I guess yesterday was just the last drop, and I finally saw what I've been trying not to." And once you see something… there's no unseeing it, try as you may.

"Maybe –"

Jenna didn't let her finish. "You can't make someone love you," she told her friend dryly, locking their gaze again before placing the glass on the floor; there was no coffee table. "You just can't," she added more for herself than for Paula, feeling tears begin to well up in her eyes again despite her wishes. Because, the truth was, she had been the fool who tried to.

Paula slung an arm across Jenna's shoulders again as she cooed, "Everything will turn out fine. You'll see." The woman wasn't entirely sure though. She could have sworn that Jenna and Brittany would wind up fine a few months ago as well, and look at how that turned out. But she was a good friend and she would try anything to make sure her words would come true.

After a few seconds Jenna rested her head on Paula's shoulder and let the tricky tears fall freely.

* * *

><p>Brittany absentmindedly fumbled with the flower pot by her parents' back door until she got the hidden key underneath it, making her way into their kitchen as quietly as she could. It was still really early. She immediately got rid of her soaked colourful sneakers and kicked them to the side with a weary sigh. The kitchen was dark and quiet as expected, so she made her way to the living room with the objective to go upstairs and check on her kid. She yearned for their daughter for some reason. Yeah, right, <em>some<em> reason.

Entering the living room she was surprised to find her Mom in sleeping clothes calmly reading a book by the side window. Not that she should be really surprised – Annie was a morning person after all – it was just that Brittany was really distracted and in her own head after that long, unsuccessful talk with Santana.

Annie instantly felt someone else's presence and brusquely lifted her eyes from the book, spotting her eldest daughter by the staircase.

Seeing Brittany's drenched state, Annie took off her reading glasses and marked the page she was at with it before placing the book on the little side table. "Brittany? What happened, dear?" Annie asked whilst getting up from the armchair, walking towards the younger blonde.

Brittany swallowed the lump that still resided on her throat and began to ramble incomprehensibly, "Jenna left, but yesterday evening I had already made up my mind, and then – San said I should… It was too late, I was too late, but I had already –"

Annie gently cut her daughter's broken words as she got near her and really saw her soaked state, "Go take a shower, Britt. You'll make yourself sick. Come back down after and we'll talk." Annie had an idea of what really went down. As a mother she knew it would happen sooner or later. She just wished it had better results, which apparently did not.

Brittany subtly nodded and Annie couldn't help but see the mixed emotions in her daughter's crystal blue eyes. The colour looked exactly like Annie's late dad, the older woman fondly reminisced.

The dancer obediently made her way upstairs, taking two steps at a time. Yes, Brittany was hopeful about the whole situation with Santana but, still, it was tough.

When she passed by her old room Brittany saw Zoey sleeping soundly on her former bed. It brought a smile to her lips. She entered the room without hesitation, her footsteps making no sound due to her delicateness and bare feet. Brittany smiled even wider at the closer sight of the girl: half uncovered with very rosy cheeks (she always twisted and turned _a lot_ in her sleep) and dressed in her blue Chelsea FC pyjamas (a gift from her fanatic-for-_real_-football Uncle Jimmy). Despite the girl's tossing though, Rainbow was securely held by her little arm. Covering her properly, Brittany leaned down – mindful to not let any raindrops fall on the kid – and pressed a feather-like kiss on Zoey's pale forehead before exiting the room towards the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later Brittany was back downstairs clad in dry clothes of her own. She always left some items at her parents' place for emergencies such as those. Annie, already changed into normal clothes, was waiting in the living room for her with a cup of hot tea ready for her kid. Brittany smiled thankfully and grabbed the welcome warm mug from the coffee table while sitting beside her Mom.

"Hmm… thanks, Mom," Brittany said after taking a cautious sip, passing over to Annie her bunched-up drenched clothes. "Will you wash them for me?" She asked in a low tone. The last thing she wanted was for her Columbia t-shirt to get all moldy while waiting to be washed in the hamper.

Annie merely nodded, taking the items through the kitchen; where, a little far to the right, she had a laundry closet. Moments later she was back at Brittany's side on the living room couch.

"So?" Annie tenderly prompted in a voice barely above a whisper. Maybe it was the early hour, or the other two people who still slept upstairs, but both of them kept their tone low.

Brittany watched her Mom from over the edge of her mug for a few seconds, and then she told her everything. Play by play, without letting out anything.

Annie listened intently, asking questions every now and then, and after Brittany was done the older woman took a deep breath to digest it all. Brittany watched her expectantly. She truly cared about her parents' opinion. They were all as close as could be. Family had always meant everything to her.

"Well, sweetheart," Annie started with a motherly little smile, running her hand through Brittany's blow-dried golden hair, "I'm glad that you know what you want, and are going after it. You know that your Dad and I only want you to be happy."

Annie's smile broadened and Brittany reciprocated it with a tight-lipped one, placing her hand over her Mom's on her own cheek.

"I'm also glad to see your attitude, Brittany," Annie added proudly, caressing her daughter's cheek one last time before retreating her hand. Brittany had expanded on how hopeful she was feeling despite the whole ordeal while she had told her Mom what happened before. "I think that's the spirit," Annie continued in the same fashion. It had killed her and Robert to see their always-so-positive daughter lose her hope all those years ago. So heartbreaking…

Brittany deeply felt her mother's words and as a result one lonely tear fell down her cheek while she lightly smiled, tear that the dancer quickly stopped with her hand. Nodding, Brittany said softly, "Yeah, it doesn't mean it's not hard, you know?"

It was Annie's time to nod her comprehension with a sympathetic light smile of her own. And then she repeated her daughter's effort to wipe down the tear that had run down the younger blonde's cheek.

Just at that second the two women heard Rob's heavy steps coming down the stairs, which made them both look back at him. The man stretched his arms above his head, dressed in sweats and a white cotton t-shirt as he climbed down the stairs towards the living room.

Noticing his wife _and daughter_ sitting on the couch drinking tea, Rob stated with surprise, "Pumpkin, you're over early." A tender small smile covered his thin lips as he reached them by the couch.

"Yeah, Dad," Brittany confirmed, mimicking his smile as she remained turned around to face him. "Good morning," she added before finishing off her amazing tea.

"Morning," Robert replied promptly, sitting on his lazy boy recliner. It was a ritual of his on Sunday mornings: sit there and just watch everything sports related. "So, what brings you by so early?" He asked casually, not looking directly at her since he was too busy retrieving the remote control and powering the tv on.

Not receiving an answer in timely fashion, he turned to the women for an explanation to the sudden silence. Brittany just looked stuck on her words, so his eyes shifted to Annie, who answered for the dancer.

"Brittany and Jenna are getting a divorce, honey," Annie said calmly, placing her hand over Brittany's on the latter's knee.

Robert looked from Annie to Brittany and back, and then he replied with a simple, "I see." Brittany is hanging on her Dad's expression as he processed the information with a blank face. Then he snapped into gear and added evenly, "Okay."

"Okay?" Brittany repeated unsurely.

"Okay," Rob confirmed. He wanted to ask about Santana, but one quick look towards his wife was enough to tell him that part of the tale. People who were married for as long as they were and as well-matched as they were could do that. Annie's look also told him that she would fill him in properly later, that right then wasn't the time. So, he amended sweetly, fixing his gaze on his daughter's blue eyes, "Whatever you need, we're here."

Brittany smiled at her Dad and got up to give him an adoring kiss on the cheek. Her parents were just… She was one very lucky _kid_.

"Help me with breakfast, Britt," Annie said casually, walking towards the kitchen with her daughter in tow.

"I'm surprised Zoey isn't up yet," Brittany remarked as she and her Mom passed by the staircase on their way to the kitchen. Usually Zoey was an early-riser, especially when she was at her grandparents. Something about making the most of their time together, or better, of the time her grandparents spoiled her.

"Well, _someone_ let her stay up way past her bedtime yesterday," Annie replied with amusement, chancing a telling look back towards Robert in the living room.

"It wasn't me," Rob called out from the living room, trying to dodge the blame even though he didn't see his wife's telling look since his were glued to the television set.

Both women chuckled lightly.

* * *

><p>Santana walked back into her house with a heavy-breathing Poppy in tow. The brunette had been running for the last past hour. She usually didn't run on Sundays, but as soon as she got back inside after her talk with Brittany, Santana had simply thrown on some yoga pants, running shoes and a hooded sweatshirt before she went out for a run. She clearly needed the decompression and to stop thinking. She took Poppy along because she had discovered recently that if she tired the Beagle enough she usually left her prized shoes alone due to lack of energy or something. So, the dog became a regular running companion since then.<p>

Bending down at the foyer to let Poppy off her leash, Santana failed to notice Quinn coming down the stairs because her iPod was still blasting the same song she had listened throughout her whole run on repeat. What? She needed the catharsis Yamagata's melancholic tune always seemed to bring her, especially at _that_ particular moment in time.

Santana saw Quinn standing a couple feet in front of her squatted down figure before she heard her. Taking off her earbuds, and standing up straight, the brunette took in Quinn's immaculate persona. The hazel-eyed woman wore an idyllic dress paired with a matching cropped cardigan, and her hair looked as perfect as her outfit. Santana on the other hand probably looked all flushed and sweaty from running her guts out; the contrast annoyed her for some reason. Not that it was taking much to accomplish that goal in the past hour.

"Where are you off to?" Santana asked in a huff, watching as dog-whore Poppy jumped all over Quinn's legs despite the dog's clear tired state.

"Church," Quinn briefly answered matter-of-factly without taking her eyes off the dog, showering Poppy with her best smile. For as long as she can remember Quinn rarely ever missed a Sunday Mass.

The blonde's reply made Santana take sudden notice to the ever-present little golden cross around Quinn's neck, but she immediately diverted her attention towards ripping off her mp3 player armband and turning the device off before placing it on the foyer's round table.

"Right," Santana replied with zero enthusiasm, placing both hands on her hips for support. She really had given her all on that run.

Poppy's thirstiness must have won over her need to seek attention, Santana figured, because she saw the Beagle lazily make her way towards the laundry room, where they kept her bowls of food and water.

"So, is there something you want to tell me?" Quinn pried not-at-all subtly, shooting her friend a pointed and knowing look as she adjusted her small sling handbag around her shoulder.

"No," Santana replied dryly, knowing that Quinn already knew at least something. _God, these people are nosy_; she thought with irritation.

"Rachel and I heard voices earlier, you know? Yours and Brittany's," Quinn carried on with her pressing, hoping to find out something. They _had_ heard some sort of arguing, but they weren't sure what the whole thing was about. They only guessed based on yesterday night's events, but their pre-conceived guess led to a happy ending and it did not seem like the case. So, something surely went wrong along the way. "What happened?"

"Stop meddling, Quinn. I don't want to talk about it," Santana said with an edgy tone, intensely locking their gazes to convey her message.

Quinn knew Santana wasn't the talking type. She always needed the time to brood and dwell before she was able to, _perhaps_, hash it all out.

Before Quinn could reply anything Santana continued, trying to change the subject, "I need a shower. God, my back hurts…" She stretched it a bit with a wince. "Giving Zoey piggyback rides and carrying her around in general is surely taking its toll," she half-assed complained.

Quinn shook her head slightly but took the bait. "We'll talk about this later when I get back for breakfast, you know, before Rach and I head to the Pierces for lunch to say bye to everyone."

Santana just begrudgingly nodded. In other times she would have certainly chewed the other woman's head off; but right then? She couldn't do it. Fact was she missed her friends. Santana missed all of them more than she would ever admit. So, maybe she was a little bit more lenient. Either way, the least she talked about this the better, so she took the out even if it was just a momentary one.

"Are you going with us?" Quinn asked casually, to which Santana just shot her a sharp look as an answer. "I –"

Santana cut her off instantly. "Don't you have to go, Fabray? You'll miss your Mass if you keep yapping away like this," the brown-eyed woman said with exasperation.

Rolling her eyes, Quinn shook her head and responded evenly, "We're not done with this." And with that she bid her friend goodbye before heading out.

Although not before Santana called out, "Wanna take the car?"

"Nope, it's close. I'd rather walk," Quinn shot back.

_God dammed Fabray sure knows how to annoy the hell out of me_, Santana mused inwardly while heading upstairs for a much needed shower. _Whatever_. Yes, mature she sure was. Well, everyone knows maturity is an overrated quality anyhow.

In the back of her head, though, Santana still listened, haunted by those damn words on that song, "_I'm not gonna shed one more tear for you. Shed one more tear for you. I'm not gonna shed one more tear for you. At least not 'til Sunday afternoon, Sunday afternoon._"

How fitting.

* * *

><p>Around midday the doorbell rang at the Pierces' home and in less than five seconds later a little blue-eyed brunette girl was running enthusiastically towards it.<p>

"I got it. I got it," Zoey shouted animatedly as she ran towards the door still in her pyjamas.

Fiddling with the key on her tiptoes she finally threw the door open. "Auntie Q, Auntie Rachel!" She exclaimed, throwing her little body against the first woman she could grab, which was Rachel.

"Hey there, Miss Zoey," Rachel greeted in a high pitch, rubbing the kid's back as Zoey hugged her legs.

As fast as she began hugging Rachel though, the little girl switched over to hug Quinn, who was already squatted down, more prepared for their goddaughter's attack.

"Hi, Zoe!" Quinn said in her sweet tone, returning the hug as small arms were curled around her neck. "Someone is happy to see us again so soon," the blonde added with amusement, because it hadn't even been 24 hours since they last saw each other.

"How was the party? Your dresses were pretty? Mommy said Mama's dress was super beautiful! Did you dance with Mommy and Mama too?" Zoey pulled back from the hug and started to fire away question after question still by the door without giving them any time to answer.

"Hey, Chatterbox, why don't you give your aunts some time to at least come inside before you start the interrogation?" Brittany asked playfully with a smile on, coming to them to save the guests. Zoey had already spent most part of the morning asking her questions about the reunion and Brittany had told her everything in detail, minus the drama obviously, but the kid still did not seem satisfied.

Zoey nodded in acceptance, looking up at them with sparkling blue eyes as the three women chuckled. Brittany had a _small_ suspicion that her daughter was on a sugar high. She had told her Dad not to let the girl put that much syrup on her pancakes, but it fell on deaf ears; especially since the old man himself _bathed_ his pancakes with the liquid, being instantly scolded by his wife.

"Didn't Mama come too?" Zoey asked innocently. It hadn't been a sure thing for her Mama to come, but the kid figured it didn't hurt to ask.

"No, sweetie," Quinn replied with a smile for the girl's sake, before shooting a quick glance towards an apprehensive Brittany.

"Ok, I'll get your paintings first then. Questions later," Zoey said, looking from Quinn to Rachel while Brittany closed the door behind her friends. The little girl had really taken to finger-painting lately.

"We can't wait," Rachel replied with a grin as Zoey bounded after her prized creations.

After briefly hugging her friends properly, Brittany started with, "Mom is just finishing lunch. Why don't we go over to the kitchen?"

As they walked together further into the house Robert could be seen still sitting in the living room.

"Girls!" The sandy-blond man greeted in a deep voice, wearing a thin smile. "Nice to see you again. Hope you don't mind me not getting up to greet you properly. Once this old man finds his chair and sports he just can't get up," he joked with a chuckle, making the girls chuckle back.

"Hi, Mr. Pierce! Fabulous to see you again as well," Rachel piped up as they stopped behind the main living room couch, looking sideways at the man on his recliner.

"And, please, don't you dare get up on our account," Quinn added with playfulness, grabbing a hold of Rachel's hand since the brunette stood by her side.

"Yeah, you ladies are family. No need for formalities. Now go on ahead, my house is your house," Rob said with sincerity as Brittany looked at him with proud eyes. Her parents really were the best.

The three women continued their walk towards the kitchen, and in no time they were entering it.

"Smells heavenly in here, Mrs. P," Quinn proclaimed as soon as they set foot in the kitchen.

They greeted Annie with hugs and politely made some quick chit-chat while sitting at the already-set table after Brittany's Mom refused their help, but they all knew what the topic they really wanted to talk about was.

Before the married couple even attempted to broach the topic, Brittany volunteered softly as the three women still sat at the table while Annie finished cooking by the stove, "Did she tell you?"

Although the topic had come out of nowhere Quinn and Rachel knew exactly who Brittany was talking about. And they thanked God that their dancer friend wasn't hard to crack… unlike a certain fiery, stubborn brunette.

"She didn't say much, really," Quinn started quietly, looking the other blonde in the eye with tenderness. Annie seemed to have tuned in more on the conversation from near the kitchen counter. "Just that you and Jenna weren't together anymore," she continued, stealing a subtle glance at Rachel, who sat beside her at the table. "When we asked about you two she just shortly said something along the lines that maybe it wasn't really meant to be," Quinn finished weakly.

While Brittany was nodding sadly – she knew Santana's whole messed-up theory, after all – Rachel added with a bit of a huff, "And in a terrible mood at that, might I add."

Quinn elbowed Rachel, who met her wife's stare defiantly whilst Brittany felt really upset to hear that. She never wanted Santana to be sad, and she knew that the brunette _was_ sad because when she was like that her reaction was always to lash out and/or display a sour mood. Brittany really never wanted things to go the way they did.

"So, what happened exactly? After last night we were sure you two would be back together in no time," Quinn asked with sympathy, gaining Brittany's whole attention again.

Brittany was in the middle of re-telling the whole thing _again_ – it wasn't like she would _ever_ forget any tiny detail of that whole heart wrenching talk – with her married friends on the edge of their seats, when Zoey came rushing into the kitchen holding several sheets of paper. Her little face sported the widest grin, but it was also littered with several colours of washable kid's paint. Suffice to say Brittany stopped telling the story immediately.

"I made two more," Zoey proclaimed instantly, carefully placing the sheets of painted paper on the plates in front of her aunts at the table. Quinn and Rachel were about to pick them up when the girl added, "Careful, these two are still wet."

Quinn and Rachel nodded with a smile, being careful around the wet ones and seeing the others more closely. All under Zoey's expectant eyes, of course.

"My goodness, look at the state of you," Brittany said with a chuckle, ushering her daughter closer to her. "Did you paint with your fingers or with your face?" The blonde added with amusement, holding the kid's face between her caring hands. Zoey just smiled brightly at her Mommy.

"With my hands," the blue-eyed girl replied, honestly thinking her mom was asking for real.

Everyone laughed at the kid's innocence, Annie included.

"These are so, so beautiful, Zoey," Rachel said while Quinn nodded her agreement.

"We'll make sure to put them in our fridge's door as soon as we get home," Quinn added in a praising tone of voice. Zoey loved when people told her they would put them on their fridge. It was like the highest honour to her.

Zoey beamed. She clearly loved to be the center of attention. "Those two are for Uncle Jimmy," the little girl said, pointing at two particular paintings from near Brittany. Turning around to face her Mommy, she asked with furrowed little brows, "Why didn't Uncle Jimmy come to the _union_?" The kid missed him, even though they spoke through phone and Skype constantly.

"He didn't go to High School with us, sweetie," Brittany answered, affectionately running her hand through her daughter's soft brown hair. Zoey just nodded her understanding before looking down at her Chelsea pyjamas as if lovingly remembering her godfather.

Brittany caught Rachel mouthing to her a mute question, 'Does she know?' To which Brittany simply shook her head subtly. She hadn't told Zoey yet about her and Jenna. That conversation would surely be a can of worms considering Brittany's plan had failed. Otherwise it would be the best conversation ever. Oh, well…

Zoey was about to restart playing twenty questions, but Annie sensed her granddaughter's desire and ran interference. "Come on, dirty little monkey, let me help you wash up so we can finally have lunch," Annie said to Zoey, outstretching her hand to beckon the kid.

The little girl really liked being referred as a _little monkey_, but not a _dirty_ one. So, she furrowed her eyebrows and countered from near her mother, "No estoy sucia." For _some_ reason her Spanish seemed to flourish more when she was being combative.

"Wow, someone is becoming really good in Spanish," Quinn mused, looking at Zoey with pride.

"San's always teaching her," Brittany commented with adoration shining in her eyes whilst longingly looking at Zoey, who was walking over to her Grandma and took the offered hand with her little one. And then grandma and granddaughter walked out of the kitchen with a brief 'We'll be right back' from Annie.

The married couple not-so-subtly prompted Brittany to finish her account of that early morning's events and the blonde obliged with no resistance.

"…And then I watched her get inside and came here," Brittany finished softly, receiving sympathetic gazes from Quinn and Rachel.

"Wow," Rachel said in response, followed quickly by a sigh. There was something to be said about the whole situation if it managed to render _Rachel Berry_ speechless.

Brittany also sensed some kind of pity mixed in her friends' sympathetic gazes. Lucky for them she wasn't Santana Lopez, otherwise they'd be in trouble. Nevertheless, the dancer felt the need to appease them.

"But it will be fine. I'll get San back, even if I have to wait forever," Brittany uttered simply, mustering the best reassuring tight-lipped smile she could. "I don't care how long it takes."

"So, she is still set on moving back to New York?" Quinn asked barely above a whisper. She still was having trouble coming to terms with the fact that Brittany's plan from yesterday night had fallen to pieces. Quinn had really set herself to believe that both their friends would be rejoining them in the Big Apple very soon.

Brittany merely nodded. That fact still managed to cut her deep whenever it was brought up. She honestly didn't know how she would stand to be apart, really _miles and miles_ apart from the love of her life. But she had her hope… Right? Right.

"That will be hard," Rachel piped in weakly, to which Brittany just nodded once again. It would. They had no idea _how_ hard.

After a short silent beat, Brittany felt like reassuring not only them but her when she said, "But I have hope now." Short pregnant pause. "I have to."

It was Quinn and Rachel's time to just nod. _God…_

"Let's _all_ hope Santana comes around," Rachel said for good measure while Quinn reached over the table top to rub Brittany's hand a bit in support.

"God knows that one is a stubborn one," Quinn mumbled to no one in particular.

Seconds later Zoey came running back into the kitchen squeaky clean with Annie a bit behind her. The little girl quickly took residence on her Mommy's lap.

Brittany smiled widely at Zoey while the brunette girl absentmindedly caressed her mother's face with some innate, pure affection that was simply heartwarming. Brittany then said with conviction while staring fondly at her kid, "Everything will be just fine," and then she slowly turned her gaze to her friends, who supportively smiled back at her.

"Let's have lunch, shall we?" Annie announced casually before calling out for Robert to join them.

* * *

><p>Santana's black Range Rover was parked in her circular driveway and Quinn was placing the last of her and Rachel's luggage in the trunk while Santana silently leaned on the side of the vehicle watching her do it. What? She had helped her carry the bags down. Should she do <em>everything<em>? Anyways, Santana knew Brittany had filled in her friends on everything that happened between them. And Quinn knew that Santana knew it. Yet, none of them said a word on the matter after the ladies came back from lunch.

Closing the trunk with a small thud, Quinn casually leaned against the car beside Santana. The brunette doctor had her eyes fixed on a giggling Zoey by then as the girl chased and was chased by Poppy a few feet away from them on her front yard's lawn. The kid had insisted on coming back to her Mama's with her aunts to take them to the airport with Santana.

"Can I tell you something?" Quinn asked evenly, also watching Zoey play without a care in the world.

Santana remained in the same position, arms nonchalantly crossed over her chest and eyes on her happy little girl, when she replied without missing a beat, "My consent or lack thereof never stopped you before." Preemptive snap: a well-known Lopez move.

Quinn rolled her eyes, sparing a quick sideway glance towards Santana.

"It has nothing to do with you and Brittany," Quinn replied with faux annoyance, knowing her friend well enough to determine the reason behind the attitude. "God, you're so self-centered…" she added in the same tone, letting a small smile take over her pretty features.

Santana mirrored said smile. After a brief beat she countered slyly, unable to miss the opportunity because Quinn really walked into that one, "Takes one to know the other." She looked sideways as well and Quinn met her eyes; they shared a quick smile before Santana returned her eyes to Zoey.

"No running near the stones, por favor," Santana called out, warning the kid about the big white stones that neatly circled different kinds of plants around the front yard. Those could seriously split up a head. Zoey didn't look at their direction since she was really immersed with the Beagle, but she immediately obeyed the instruction.

Quinn took the silence as her cue to go on. "I have some really good news," the hazel-eyed woman proclaimed with a tiny hint of a smile.

"Man-Hands lost her voice?" Santana joked half-heartedly. Rachel had been inside the house taking a phone call before she and Quinn headed back to New York.

Quinn just faked a silent laugh.

"Rachel and I are adopting," she said seriously and softly after a beat, smoothing her dress to keep her hands busy.

Santana instantly uncrossed her arms and leaned on her side against the car instead of on her back. Quinn followed her move.

Blinking rapidly several times, Santana struggled to find words. "Quinn, that's…" Santana trailed off, offering the blonde a genuine smile. "Why didn't you two say something before?" The brunette added in question. Those things took time, right? They must have started a while back.

Quinn smiled back before she replied matter-of-factly, "We started the whole process in the beginning of the year. We wanted to get the ball going before we told everyone. You're the first to hear this aside from Rachel's dads, by the way. We don't have a kid yet or anything. These things take time, you know?" And then Quinn flashed Santana a full-blown smile while her friend nodded.

Quinn was really excited. Really nervous, but really excited. It didn't take a genius to know why they had opted for the adoption route. Of course the fact that Rachel didn't want to get pregnant at that exact moment because she had a new play starting in a few weeks, and the fact that Quinn still didn't know whether she would like to face pregnancy again, both also factored into their decision. What they were certain on was that they wanted to expand the family. They were stronger than ever as a couple. Their relationship had started tumultuous around senior year of college. Rachel had broken-up with Finn less than a year before, and Quinn had come from a string of barely-months-old relationships. So, they had lots of on-and-off periods at the beginning. Also along the way they had several problems due to Rachel's career that have always brought out her driven, ambitious and egotistic side to play, which never mixed well with Quinn's judgmental, manipulative and cold side. However, they had found balance. At that point in their lives they were ready, committed and solid.

"Well, that's awesome, Q…" Santana spoke with the utmost sincerity, placing a hand on Quinn's forearm. "I'm, I'm really happy for you. Both of you," she added in the same fashion. She and Brittany had also considered adoption back then when they decided that they wanted a kid. Blood relation had never been an issue for them whatsoever. The only problem with adoption was the long wait. At least that was what Santana had claimed, but she and Brittany knew that the real reason behind it was the fact that Santana was a real control-freak. She always wanted to hold all the cards. The possibility of hearing a 'no' from some judging stranger was just… Santana Lopez liked her control.

Quinn nodded with a tight-lipped smile conveying her silent 'thanks'. However, there was still that _particular_ something in the back of her mind. She needed to ask. "Do you, uh, do you think I'll be a good Mom?" Quinn asked in a really low tone of voice, averting her eyes to the ground for some reason.

Santana added pressure on her hold of Quinn's forearm and didn't hesitate when she replied confidently, "I _know_ you will." That brought Quinn's eyes back up to meet her friend's stare, her _best_ friend's stare. "In fact," Santana continued evenly, holding the gaze, "I know you've _always_ been."

The words hit Quinn hard, and she felt her eyes begin to well up a bit. Again, it didn't take a genius to know why they had chosen to adopt. There hasn't been a day in Quinn's life when she didn't wonder where _she_ had been, when she felt a particular freezing gust of wind in a random New York winter and didn't wonder if _she_ had enough to keep her warm, when she didn't wonder what kind of people had _her_, when she didn't pray really hard for those people to be kind and good and loving… Now Quinn, with Rachel by her side, wanted to be nothing more than the kind of people she wished _she_ had in her life.

But she knew she would never stop wondering.

Santana stepped forward and hugged the petite blonde. She felt she needed one. Quinn pulled back after a few seconds and that time she actually said it, "Thank you." Santana could see in her eyes that she meant it, the same way that Quinn had seen that Santana had meant what she had said but a moment ago.

"It means a lot coming from you," Quinn added honestly as both of them resumed their position leaning sideways against the car. "You're amazing with her," she continued with a smile, motioning with her head towards Zoey.

Santana smiled back but dismissed the compliment. "It is easier than you think," she said simply and then paused, quickly pondering whether she should continue or not. She did though, powered by their moment or so it seemed.

"I never told her this but, when Brittany got pregnant, there were a couple of times I, uh, got really worried. There was this… _person_ growing inside of her," Santana said softly, stealing an adoring glance at Zoey, "this little person that we didn't know but who I – who _we_ wanted so much, but who was still a stranger, you know? This tiny person who would just come out and you were supposed to just love instantly. You know my track record with feelings, so you can't blame me for the thoughts," she added with some wry humour and laugh as Quinn hung on her every word.

After a brief pause Santana continued, "But you do. Love them instantly, I mean." They both grinned sweetly, and Santana stole another glance at her kid. "Turned out I actually got to meet mine a little later than I expected," the brunette continued wistfully, her smile fading a bit, "but, I guess what I'm trying to say is that it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter when or how, because you look at them and they're… _yours_ and it just hits you. Hard."

"Well, you're a great Mom, San," Quinn said sincerely, bumping shoulders with her friend to convey affection.

"I try," Santana countered in a rare moment of modesty. "B is the natural, though," she added matter-of-factly with fondness.

Quinn knew it wasn't exactly the truth. They were both excellent mothers.

Changing the subject, Quinn said with a barely-there smile, "I'm happy you'll be back to New York." The petite blonde really wished Santana would be back with Brittany and Zoey, but she would take what she could get. "I've missed you," she stated softly, and to quickly mask the sappy statement she concluded playfully, "Especially for our tennis matches. Jimmy really isn't the ideal partner."

"He still fancies himself Federer, huh?" Santana asked with a smirk, to which Quinn just matched it and weakly nodded. Let's just say James played the game really seriously and really… aggressively. Quinn's once broken wrist would know.

In that moment Rachel popped her head out the front door of the house with her phone attached to her ear and called out, "I'm just finishing, guys. One minute!" And right after she was out of view again.

Santana shook her head at the Hobbit's antics while she and Quinn yet again went back to leaning against the car with their backs.

"You shouldn't choose your pride over happiness, San," Quinn said calmly whilst they watched Zoey and Poppy. "Trust me, I would know," she concluded in a serious tone of voice.

Santana didn't reply. She just seemed to be taking it in. After a few seconds she stopped leaning against the car and, without turning to Quinn, she said evenly, "Thanks, but I didn't ask for advice." Small pause. "It is what it is," she concluded in the same tone.

With that she started making her way towards Zoey but was immediately stopped by Quinn, who deterred Santana by softly grabbing her by the elbow. "For what it's worth, Britt actually told us last night at Puck's bar that she would end things with Jenna," Quinn stated while holding fiery brown orbs. She had heard the whole story from Brittany and knew she could, at least, shed some light and confirmation.

Santana didn't say anything. She simply broke eye contact after a few intense seconds and directed a determined gaze – including her traditional raised eyebrow – to where Quinn held her by the arm. There was no denial that the brunette's mood had become considerably lighter than it was at the beginning of that Sunday morning – time really seemed to put things in perspective – but Quinn was _really_ trying to test her. Anyhow, suffice to say, the petite blonde got the "subtle" message and released her hold.

Santana then just resumed her walk towards her daughter because _that_ wasn't the real issue, was it? She wouldn't lie, it was sort of nice to have confirmation, but that was way beside the point where they currently stood.

The brunette changed her attitude as soon as she neared her kid. "Come on, baby, let's get your silly aunts to the airport!" Santana exclaimed with a grin plastered on her face as the kid threw herself in her Mama's arms.

"They're not silly, Mama," Zoey replied through giggles as Santana planted several kissed all over the girl's face while embracing her tightly.

"Oh, but they are," Santana joked, picking Zoey up while Poppy jumped at their feet and Quinn joined them with a smile.

"Shut up," Quinn shot back playfully as Rachel made her way to them.

"Shall we go?" Rachel asked congenially, placing a hand on her wife's shoulder.

"Please," Santana joked once again and her friends just shook their heads.

* * *

><p>It was really late at night when Santana parked her car yet again in front of Brittany's place. She had stopped by a few hours earlier to drop Zoey off, all bathed and sleepy and ready for bed. The brown-eyed woman had a really early shift the next day and wouldn't be able to keep their daughter for the night. Their interaction had been nothing shorter than civil, but too short... especially to Brittany's liking. The dancer knew Santana was clearly trying to avoid time with her.<p>

Santana killed the engine and grabbed her phone. She just sat there with the mobile in hand for a couple of minutes anxiously pondering whether she should text Brittany or not. It was really late and considering both of them had work the next day it was safe to assume Brittany should be already in bed. But, if the dancer was anything like Santana, she was probably experiencing some trouble in the sleep department as well. Besides, Santana could clearly see through the living room curtain some sort of tv light glowing amidst the darkness.

_What the hell_; Santana thought, unlocking her phone screen. She shot the other woman a quick text, _'Are you still up?'_

The reply came but a minute after, _'Yes. Couldn't sleep.'_

Santana filed the second half of Brittany's message under the TMI category of her brain. She really didn't need to know that. Even though it only confirmed her earlier theory.

Shrugging away the thought, Santana's thumb worked on a reply, _'I'm outside. Can you come to the door?' _She didn't wait for a reply, though. Santana just unfastened her seatbelt, grabbed something from the passenger's seat and made her way to Brittany's door.

Santana would never know this, but Brittany's heart skipped several beats in excitement after reading that text on the screen of her phone, and the blue-eyed woman's hands started to subtly shake as she rushed from the living room's couch to the door.

Brittany swung the door open with a bright smile on her lips at the same time Santana reached her door.

"Zoey forgot Peter and Wendy at my place," Santana declared simply, offering the fish bowl in her hands. "Since I have that early shift tomorrow I thought it'd be best to drop it off today than wake you up at dawn," she finished matter-of-factly.

"Oh," Brittany replied weakly, her excitement visibly deflating along with her smile. She tried to recover in time by hurriedly reaching for the offered fish bowl after plastering a forced little smile on her face, but it was no use. Santana had obviously seen it.

Trying to ignore what she had seen (Brittany should really work on her poker face because witnessing stuff like that was really hard… on _both_ of them, surely) Santana babbled on in a desperate attempt to kill the awkwardness floating in the air, "I mean, I didn't want the kids to be disappointed or something if Zoey forgot the damn fishes at home. I mean, if Zoe is any indication those brats really enjoy taking the dynamic duo home. We wouldn't want to make some poor kid cry for missing their turn, right?" She emitted a contrived chuckle after the lame joke.

Brittany fake chuckled back, keeping the pretense to the best of her capability. "Right," she uttered for good measure, holding the bowl with both hands in fear of dropping it. The kids really did love those fishes. When they moved from Miss Miller's class to Miss Andrews' the little ones got so attached to the betas that they had to move classes with the children too.

"I better head back. Have some sleeping to do," Santana said still in a playful tone, she apparently wasn't able to break free from it.

"Alright," Brittany replied softly, breaking out of her disappointment and offering Santana a sweet and genuine smile. Really, she shouldn't be surprised. What was she expecting? Brittany knew she had always been an optimistic person but even _she_ should know that, when she proposed to wait for Santana, the wait would certainly be longer than mere eighteen hours. But I girl could dream, and hope, right? Besides, she was totally okay with waiting. For as long as it took. If it even took. Whatever the case may be, she was hopeful at least. _Hope_; Brittany reinforced in her mind yet again. It felt good.

Santana just nodded at Brittany's 180. The woman _still_ managed to be a mystery to her. And she _still_ loved that fact about her. Wait… _no_, scratch that. Her mind really shouldn't go there. So, Santana subtly shook her head from side to side and began turning on her feet to get (run?) back to her car.

"Goodnight, S," Brittany added as the other woman took a couple of steps towards her destination.

"Night," Santana replied softly, briefly turning her neck to see the dancer without stop walking.

After a couple more steps from Santana, Brittany couldn't help but coyly – yet puckishly – call out from her doorway, "I'll still be waiting." She didn't know exactly where that boldness came from, but she liked it.

That stopped Santana on her tracks. She bit her bottom lip whilst lifting one eyebrow before turning her body halfway to look back at Brittany. "Yeah, I haven't forgotten. You know, from the other _hundred_ times you said it," Santana countered with a hint of cheekiness. Again, she had to hand it to Brittany: the other woman had some nerve.

And then, after delivering the line Santana immediately resumed her short walk.

That didn't stop Brittany, though. "Good," the blonde shot back, smile widening. "Sweet dreams, San…"

Santana continued walking while shaking her head. "Go to bed, Britts," she replied evenly with her back still turned.

When she reached her car though, she couldn't deny the betraying tiny smile that played on her lips. However, she did consciously drop it instantly after she noticed it. _Damn. Shut it down, woman._

* * *

><p><strong>Tables turn, ladies and gents... Tables turn.<strong>

But it's nice to see some beauty in the wreck, and also some kind of order in the randomness of the universe, huh? At least on the page. Things finally came full circle (well, almost full circle since it will only come full circle for real when our ladies do get back together). Rambling aside, hope you guys see now why things had to go down like that, in that specific order to have real meaning, purpose and make the girls come out from this stronger than ever. If not, hopefully you will soon. 4 more chapters (give or take) to go...

**I will answer all your PMs, by the way. I know I'm terribly behind but I wanted to get the chapter done first.**


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